Chapter 124

The next evening arrived with the kind of heaviness that settled beneath my skin and refused to leave. It felt like all the air around me had thickened, like the city was holding its breath on my behalf. I spent most of the afternoon sketching without drawing anything at all. My pencil moved, but my mind was somewhere else. Somewhere older. Somewhere I had avoided for far too long.

Torin stayed close but quiet, giving me room to pace the loft like a restless ghost. Rook watched me for a while before telling me to sit, which I did for five whole seconds before standing again. Reif asked if I wanted him to come with us, even though we both knew this was not his burden to carry. Tannin made me tea in an attempt to soothe my nerves, but I barely tasted it.

Only Jess seemed calm, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, observing me like he was waiting for something to click.

When the clock hit six, Torin picked up his keys and gave me a look that was more gentle than anything I deserved. “Ready?” he asked.

“No,” I answered honestly. “But I think that is the point.”

He brushed his hand along my cheek and nodded. “We will take it slow.”

Rook stood from the couch. “You want backup?”

Torin gave him a look. “This is not that kind of meeting.”

Rook shrugged. “Habit.”

Reif put his hands in his pockets. “Good luck,” he said quietly. “Come back with answers.”

Jess stepped forward and squeezed my shoulder. “You are strong enough for this,” he said softly. “And you are not going alone.”

I nodded once and followed Torin to the door. The envelope with the simple message sat tucked inside my jacket. The curve of the words haunted me.

You deserve the whole truth.

The evening air greeted us as we walked to the truck. The sky had that dusky purple tint that made the city look softer than it was. Torin opened the passenger door for me, and once I climbed inside, he circled around and got in.

The drive to Montaro Construction was quiet. Not uncomfortable. Just quiet in the way moments are when something important waits on the other side.

By the time we pulled into the lot, the sun had slipped behind the rooftops, leaving long shadows stretching across the pavement. A motorcycle sat near the entrance, a sleek black machine with chrome bars that gleamed beneath the outdoor lights.

My breath hitched. I knew that bike. I remembered sitting on it once, tiny fingers gripping the handlebars while Ginger laughed and told me to hold on. Burdock had always kept it spotless.

Torin placed his hand over mine. “We go in together.”

“I know,” I whispered.

We walked inside. The familiar scent of sawdust and old pine wrapped around me, a scent that always made me think of Torin’s steady hands and the life we were building. But tonight, it was layered with something else too. Something like memory.

Burdock stood near the center of the room, broad and solid, his back to us as he studied a blueprint on a table. His hair had gone more silver since I last saw him, but it still curled slightly at the ends. His shoulders looked just as unmovable as they had years ago when he commanded entire rooms with a single word.

He turned at the sound of our footsteps.

His eyes found Torin first, then me. For a moment, something flickered across his face. Recognition. Relief. Regret. All tangled together.

He nodded once. “About time,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, holding the weight of years.

Torin gave him a respectful nod. “Sir.”

Burdock stepped closer, his gaze settling on me. My heart hammered against my ribs, loud enough that I wondered if he could hear it.

“Hello, little bird,” he said.

The nickname hit me like a punch. No one had called me that since Ginger. My eyes stung.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He studied me for a moment, not with judgment, but with a softness I did not expect. “You look like her,” he said. “Your mother. It is like seeing her all over again.”

My throat tightened. “You knew her well?”

“I knew her enough to know she was trying to survive,” he replied. “And enough to know she loved you and Rook more than anything in this world.”

I swallowed hard. “Mace said you tried to keep us together.”

Burdock let out a long breath. “We tried. Ginger and me. Mace too. Your mother asked us to watch over you. She was scared. She knew Skye would not let her take you. She knew Lucien’s father wanted control.”

The mention of Lucien’s father tightened something deep in my stomach.

“Why?” I asked quietly. “Why would he care?”

Burdock rubbed a hand over his jaw, his eyes darkening. “Because your mother was a threat to him. Beautiful. Smart. People listened to her. He hated her for that. Hated the way she made others question him. When she found comfort with another man, he made it his mission to break her. Breaking her meant breaking you. Breaking you meant breaking Skye. It was all power. Twisted, pointless power.”

Torin reached for my hand. His fingers were warm, grounding me again.

“So the note,” I said. I pulled the envelope from my jacket. “She wrote this. And Mace gave me the second one.”

Burdock nodded. “Your mother wanted you to know the truth one day. She wanted you to understand that none of what happened was her choice.”

Emotion rose in my chest like a tide I could not stop. “Why now?” I asked. “Why bring this to me after all these years?”

His expression softened. “Because now you are safe. Now you have people who will stand with you. Now you have a life worth protecting. And now the ones who would have kept this truth buried are gone.”

He stepped closer, gentle despite his size. “Your mother did not abandon you. She fought for you. We all did. We just lost to men who had more reach and fewer morals.”

Tears blurred my vision. I wiped them quickly before they could fall.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Burdock shook his head. “Do not thank me. I came here because I owed you this. And because I wanted you to know you were never forgotten.”

Torin squeezed my hand again. “We appreciate it,” he said.

Burdock looked at him with something like pride. “You take care of her. You always did. Even when you were too stubborn to admit it.”

A small smile tugged at Torin’s mouth. “Yes, sir.”

Burdock reached out and rested a hand briefly on my shoulder. “Ginger will want to see you,” he said. “She'll be at the wedding.”

My heart jolted. “She's coming?”

“Of course she is,” he said. “She loves you.”

The tears came then. Hot. Quick. Unstoppable. Torin pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me as I cried quietly against his chest. Burdock waited, patient, allowing me the space to break without shame.