Page 58 of Paws & Order

Then blush like an idiot.

An hour later, he arrives with soup and wine.

He takes one look at the photographs scattered across my table and knows exactly what I've been doing.

I explain everything.

Emily. The engagement. The disappearance. The missing records.

When I finish, Cassian sits quietly for a moment.

"You think Theodore lost her."

I nod. "Maybe."

His gaze settles on the old photograph. "That would explain a lot."

It would. Maybe not everything. But enough.

Later, after dinner, we lock away the records and put the flowers back on the windowsill.

Then we settle onto the couch.

No investigation. No theories. No mystery boards.

Just us.

At some point, my head ends up on his shoulder.

His arm settles around me. Easy and natural.

Like it's always belonged there.

The apartment is quiet. The town is quiet. Even Gomez is asleep.

At three in the morning, I wake to a faint blue glow.

Gomez is sitting on the windowsill. Alert. But not alarmed.

On the nightstand sits a new photograph.

Old. Sepia toned. A woman standing in the original garden. Her face hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

I turn it over. Whitmore House Summer 1891

That's all. No warning. No message. Just a memory.

Carefully, I set the photograph beside the flowers.

Then I slide back beneath the blankets.

Cassian shifts in his sleep.

His arm settles heavily around my waist. Warm and solid.

The photograph rests on the nightstand. The flowers glow softly in the moonlight.

Tomorrow, I'll keep digging.