Page 64 of When the Smoke Clears

“That was before we talked about you staying,” I add quietly.

Her eyes search my face, lingering on my mouth for half a heartbeat before jumping back to my eyes, like she didn’t mean to go there. “What did he say?”

I sit on the coffee table across from her, close enough that our knees almost touch. Up this close, her eyes look even more raw—bright blue rimmed in red.

Of all the conversations I’ve imagined having with her, this one never made the list.

“Doc thinks there’s a chance your mom may have been murdered.”

The pillow creaks under her grip. “But Alan said she looked peaceful,” she whispers. “Like maybe a heart attack.”

“And that might still be true,” I say. “But there’s something else.”

Her hand reaches for mine before I can finish, fingers brushing my knuckles as if she isn’t sure she’s allowed. I turn my palm over and let her tuck her hand into it. It’s cold. She’s shaking.

“There was a small puncture wound behind her ear,” I say.

“Fuck,” Gabe snaps behind me. He cracks his knuckles, one after the other, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

“She was injected with something,” Isla says. Her voice is flat, but her hand clenches around mine.

“That’s what it looks like,” I confirm.

Gabe drops into the desk chair and spins halfway around, staring at the ceiling. “Jesus.”

Isla swallows hard. I feel the tremor all the way through her arm. “How do we find out what it was?”

“Toxicology can take weeks,” I tell her. “We don’t have the tech here. Doc sends it out.”

“He took multiple vials?” Gabe asks.

“Yeah.” I nod. “He said he drew several.”

“Then steal me one,” Gabe says.

I look at him. “That’s not how this works.”

He leans forward, locking eyes with me. “I know people who can run this in under twenty-four hours. And they can find anything.”

“There’s a chain of custody,” I say, tugging my hand free from Isla’s only because I need both hands to emphasize the point. Her fingers linger on mine for a second before falling back to her lap. “I can’t just walk into the lab and take evidence. It’ll never hold up in court, and if I get caught⁠—”

“You won’t,” Gabe cuts in. “And we’ll cross the court bridge if we ever get to it. Right now, we’re up against someone who’s already set a house on fire and nearly run Isla down in the street. This isn’t about rules. It’s about time.”

I drag a hand over my face. The line between right and wrong used to be bright and straight. Somewhere between Isla’s grip on my hand and Doc’s voice saying murder, it turned into a blur I’m already standing on the wrong side of.

“Yeah,” I exhale. “Okay.”

Gabe stands. “I’ll break in and grab it. You can stay clean.”

“Can you even do that?” Isla asks, eyebrows lifting slightly. Her voice is small, but there’s a thread of dark amusement woven through it.

He smiles without humor. “I can do a lot of things I’m not proud of,” he says. “Most of which I don’t talk about.”

“I’ll go to the lab,” I say. “It’s my jurisdiction. If anyone sees us, it makes more sense if I’m there.”

“I’ll call my contact,” Gabe says. “Meet you when it’s done. Text me when you’ve got it.”

“I don’t want Isla alone here,” I add. I can’t keep the edge out of my tone. “Not for even a few minutes.”