Page 118 of Whispers in the Night
“Please do.”
Harper closed her eyes, listening to Silas’s steady heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Tomorrow she’d drive back to Nevada and start the process of packing up her life there, submitting transfer paperwork, saying goodbye to colleagues who’d become friends over five years.
But it didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a beginning.
In one month, she’d be back in Portland permanently. Working out of the FBI field office, collaborating with Blackridge PD on cases, coming home to Silas at the end of the day. Building the future they’d started mapping out in stolen moments between hunting a killer.
Dale Sutton had tried to drag her into his darkness, to convince her they were the same. But he’d been wrong. Harper understood darkness, yes—but she also understood light. The warmth of connection, the comfort of being truly seen, the hope that came from choosing to build something good instead of destroying.
And as she drifted toward sleep, wrapped in Silas’s arms, Harper thought about the nineteen women who hadn’t gotten this chance. Who’d had their futures stolen by a man obsessed with his own twisted logic.
She couldn’t bring them back. Couldn’t undo the harm that had been done.
But she could honor them by living fully, by choosing connection over isolation, by building something beautiful out of the ashes of trauma.
She could choose hope.
And for the first time in a very long time, that felt like enough.
Epilogue
One Year Later
The weather cooperated in that way it rarely did for outdoor weddings in the Pacific Northwest.
Clear skies. Gentle breeze. Perfect temperature—warm enough for the garden venue but not so hot that everyone was miserable in their formal wear.
Harper stood in the bridal suite of the botanical gardens just outside Portland, adjusting her dress for the tenth time.
“You look beautiful,” her friend, Sarah, from the FBI academy said, appearing behind her in the mirror. “Stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not fidgeting. I’m adjusting.”
“You’ve been ‘adjusting’ that same spot for five minutes.” Sarah smacked her hands away and moved to fix Harper’s veil. “Nervous?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Harper took a breath. “I’m marrying Silas. I want to marry Silas. But standing here, about to walk down that aisle in front of everyone—it feels so big. Now I know how Julie Robert’s character must have felt inRunaway Bride.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Sarah warned with a sharp look. “And yes, it is big. That’s the point.” She was completely absorbed in adjusting the veil, making sure everything was just right. “But you’ve been living together for nine months. You’vealready figured out how to be partners. The wedding is just making it official.”
“Except my last name.”
“Except your last name,” she agreed. “Harper Kane. How does that sound?”
“Good. Really good.” Harper smiled, liking the sound of it. She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Sarah handed her the bouquet—white roses mixed with deep-purple calla lilies—and they walked to the garden’s entrance.
Through the doorway, Harper could see the setup. Rows of chairs filled with friends and colleagues—maybe seventy people total. An archway covered in flowers at the front. And Silas, standing under that archway looking nervous and handsome in his dark suit, his pale-blue eyes scanning the entrance waiting for her.
Captain Holloway stood next to him, prepared to officiate. They’d asked him specifically—the man who’d believed in them when the case brought them together, who’d called out their terrible attempts at hiding their relationship, who’d supported them through everything.
“Ready?” Sarah asked.
“Ready.”
The music started—a string quartet playing something soft and romantic. Sarah walked down the aisle first. Then two of Harper’s FBI colleagues. Then Morris from Blackridge PD, who’d insisted on being a groomsman because “I won the betting pool, I earned this.”
Then it was Harper’s turn.
