Page 112 of When the Smoke Clears

My mouth tastes like pennies. “He used her. She set the fire that almost killed Isla.”

The words make my stomach pitch.

Sav takes a step back, absorbing the blow, then plants her feet like she always does—bruised, not broken.

Tim’s already radioing as he moves, rattling off coordinates, license queries, and contact names.

I turn to my mother. She’s upright because she refuses not to be, but tremors ripple through her arms. Eden has both hands clamped around one of hers, squeezing tight, her own eyes wet and wide.

“I’m sorry,” Mom whispers. “I slept beside a stranger for thirty years, and I brought his lies to my children.”

I grip her fingers. “We all believed what made life bearable.” I glance at the bruising already rising on her forearm, then back to her eyes. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She shakes her head. “Just shaken. And ashamed.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Savannah says fiercely, arm circling our mother’s shoulders. “He does.”

I nod to the deputies. “Take Mom, Sav, and Eden upstairs. No one opens the door but me, Tim, or a uniform you recognize. If he doubles back, you call before you breathe.”

Sav gives me that steady sister look. “We’ve got her. Go.”

Dalton angles closer. “What’s the play?”

The word hits awkwardly and right all at once. I pull air into my lungs; it scrapes as it goes down. “Nathaniel’s terrified. Which means he’s sloppy. He’ll run to ground he knows or to whoever’s holding his leash.”

“We hunt him,” I say. “Dalton, you’re with me. Chase, hit the south access roads. If he stashes cars, they’ll be there. Call me about anything that smells even a little wrong.”

They both nod, already moving toward the door.

I yank my phone from my pocket and dial Gabe. He answers on the first ring.

“Luke?”

“He got away. Armed. We’re canvassing the grounds. I need you with Isla. Doors locked, eyes up.”

“Damn it!” Gabe’s shout cracks under the weight of everything we both know.

“Nathaniel’s desperate,” I grind out. “He’s cornered, and that makes him unpredictable. He may run or look for a hostage. And in his twisted mind, Isla is the root of every problem—me becoming sheriff, me digging into his business, all of it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gabe breathes, the fear sharpening his voice.

“As long as he’s out there, Isla isn’t safe.”

CHAPTER 27

ISLA

My leg stretches across the cold bed, seeking Luke’s warmth. Instead, I find only the coolness of the sheets and a faint dip in the mattress. A thin blade of sunlight filters through the curtains, painting the room in hazy gold. I blink against it, heart sinking as I take in Luke’s absence.

The emptiness feels like it could swallow me whole. For one wild, traitorous second, my brain goes straight to the old nightmare that he’s gone again. That I woke up too late, that this second chance was just a cruel, vivid dream.

I take a deep breath and allow the fog to clear. New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, Massachusetts, Rhode Island…

By the time I reach the fifth colony, my momentary panic is abated.

Everything is fine. Luke is just working on the case in the other room.

The thought of warm banana pancakes drifts through my mind, sweet and comforting, and I wonder if we have the ingredients in the pantry. It sounds like the perfect excuse to coax Luke into the kitchen with me.