Page 34 of When the Smoke Clears

He leads me into his office, a modest room dominated by a large oak desk. I settle into the chair opposite him as a shiver racks my body. I wish I weren’t doing this alone.

“First, I should tell you that your mother recently came to work for me,” he says.

My mouth falls open. “When?”

“About six months ago,” he replies, leaning back. “I needed some part-time administrative help, and Gretchen turned out to be a great hire.”

A lump swells in my throat. “Really?”

He nods. “She asked me not long ago if I could help her get her affairs in order. She said it wasn’t something she’d ever thought about before, but working here made her realize it was important.”

As I try to process this new version of my mother—a woman taking responsibility, making plans—he slides a small box across the polished desk.

“I have a few of your mom’s belongings from the office to give you.”

Inside the box is a coffee mug that reads, “Not today, Satan,” and a small 4x6 photo in a simple frame. It’s me, around six years old, in a bright yellow shirt and white shorts, perched on a swing with a broad, toothy smile.

“She kept that on her desk,” Alan says gently.

I manage to keep my voice steady, even as my insides spin like a tornado. I carefully set the box on my lap and trace its edges with my fingertips. “Thank you.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Alan says. “Your mother didn’t have much, but she wanted to make sure you got everything she did have.”

He adjusts his glasses and opens a thick manila file, the papers inside rustling as he begins to read through Gretchen Marie Tanner’s last will and testament. The legal terms blur together, mixing with the ache in my chest. It feels like a shot of Novocain to my system—numbing and disorienting all at once.

He eventually slides a crisp white envelope across the desk. “Her savings weren’t large, but they should cover her bills, plus a little extra. The house is now yours to do with as you wish.”

I stare at the envelope, its edges slightly curled from handling, but my hands stay in my lap. I can’t bring myself to break the seal yet.

When he’s finished, Alan stands and quietly steps out, giving me privacy.

The office is silent except for the ticking of a clock on the wall.

It takes me a good twenty minutes to look through the contents of the envelope, breathing slowly to steady my heart. Finally, I stand, clutch the box to my chest, and thank him with a shaky voice before leaving.

Outside, Gabe is parked at the curb. He lifts a hand in greeting, concern etched on his features. “How’d it go?”

I let out a shaky sigh, refusing to give in to the tears burning behind my eyes. “As well as can be expected.”

“I got your tire fixed,” he says. “Your car’s still at the shop.”

“Have you spoken to Luke?” I ask.

Gabe shakes his head. “I’ve put off calling him until you made your decision. What do you want to do, Isla?”

The heat that was simmering at the back of my eyes flares in my chest instead.

“Stay and fight,” I say, the words surprising even me with how solid they sound. “If this is the person who took my life away from me once, they’re not stealing another moment. They’re going to pay for everything.”

CHAPTER 9

LUKE

I end the call, and the silence that follows punches the air out of my lungs. I sit frozen, everything inside me locking up at once. My half-eaten sandwich slips from my hand and lands on my boot, jolting me out of the trance.

Isla left the bar with Gabe. My pulse spikes fast enough that my vision tightens at the edges.

I drag a hand over my face, trying to steady the thrum under my skin, but it’s useless. My body is already moving before my mind catches up. Fear, jealousy, and instinct all collide in my chest at once.