Page 81 of Whispers in the Night

They smiled at each other, and Harper felt a surge of hope. Maybe they could have this. Maybe when the nightmare ended, they could build something real together.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Captain Holloway:FBI lab results on fiber evidence came back early. Meeting tomorrow 9am to review. Get some rest tonight.

The real world intruding on their moment. Harper sighed.

“Case?” Silas asked.

“Fiber evidence results. Meeting tomorrow morning.” Harper squeezed his hand. “But that’s tomorrow. Tonight is ours.”

“Tonight is ours,” Silas agreed, his thumb tracing over her knuckles.

They stayed on the porch until the stars came out, talking about everything and nothing. Their childhoods, their dreams before they became consumed by chasing darkness, the places they wanted to travel someday. Getting to know each other beyond the case, beyond the crisis that had thrown them together.

When they finally went back inside, it felt natural to go to the bedroom together. To climb into bed wrapped in each other’s arms. To fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.

Harper’s last thought before sleep claimed her was that no matter what happened with the case, no matter how it ended, she would never regret this. Never regret letting Silas in.

For the first time in her adult life, she wasn’t alone in the darkness.

And that made all the difference.

Chapter 16

Harper woke to sunlight streaming across the bed and the warmth of Silas’s arm draped over her waist. For a handful of perfect seconds, she existed in a bubble where serial killers and dead women didn’t exist. Where she was just a woman waking up next to a man she cared about, with nothing more pressing than deciding what to have for breakfast.

Then reality crashed back in. The meeting at nine. Fiber evidence results. A killer still out there.

She shifted carefully, not wanting to wake Silas, but his arm tightened reflexively around her.

“Morning,” he murmured against her hair, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Morning.” Harper turned in his arms to face him. In the early light, she could see the small scar above his left eyebrow, the faint lines around his eyes that spoke of too many sleepless nights and too much stress. “We have that meeting in two hours.”

“I know.” Silas’s hand traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. “But we have time for coffee. Maybe breakfast. Possibly a shower.”

“Possibly?”

“Definitely a shower.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips—soft and unhurried. “But first, coffee. I don’t function without coffee.”

She could definitely relate.

They took their time getting ready, moving around each other in the small cabin with an ease that felt natural despite how new everything was. Silas made coffee while Harper showered. When she emerged, dressed in work clothes with her hair still damp, he had eggs scrambling on the stove and toast ready.

“You’re going to spoil me,” Harper said with a smile, accepting the plate he handed her.

“That’s the plan.” Silas leaned against the counter, eating his own breakfast. “Get you so used to being taken care of that you can’t imagine going back to living on vending machine food and three hours of sleep a night.”

“Devious,” she said with playfully narrowed eyes.

“I prefer ‘strategic.’” He smiled, but it faded as he checked his watch. “We should head out in twenty minutes. Traffic might be heavy.”

The drive to the station was quiet, both of them mentally preparing for whatever the fiber evidence would reveal. Harper found herself hoping for a breakthrough—something concrete that would point them definitively toward the killer. But she was also bracing for disappointment. This case had taught her not to get her hopes up.

The station was already busy when they arrived at eight-forty-five. Officers coming off night shift, detectives starting their day, phones ringing constantly. Morris waved them toward the conference room where Captain Holloway was setting up a presentation.

“Agent Sinclair, Detective Kane.” Holloway gestured to seats at the table. “FBI lab sent over their full analysis. We’re just waiting on Sanchez and Holt.”

The lead tech and detective arrived moments later, both carrying laptops and looking alert despite the early hour. Onceeveryone was settled, Holloway pulled up the FBI’s report on the main screen.