Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (63)

Pete snapped his mouth closed, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Roger cleared his throat as he rocked back on his heels. “Livie’s trying to fast-track the evidence, but you know how the crime lab is.”

“Understaffed and overworked,” I muttered.

“Understatement of the century,” Roger agreed. “She did find a fiber that didn’t look like it matched anything Heidi was wearing. Green. Not sure what that will get us unless it miraculously has DNA, but she’ll do her best.”

I nodded.

Roger was quiet for a moment, but I could tell he had something else to say. So I waited.

He cleared his throat again. “We need to talk to Nova again—”

“No.” The single word whipped out.

“We need to see if she remembers anything new,” Roger protested.

“No.” It was all I could say. I wasn’t putting her through that again.

“What if it saves this woman? Someone who could still be alive—just like Nova was,” Roger pressed.

I stared back at him. He knew the right buttons to push. “Fuck you,” I muttered, though without heat.

“You know we have to do it,” he said quietly. “It can be just you and me.”

“I’m working this case, too,” Pete spat.

If he thought he was getting within a mile of Nova, he was dead wrong. My gaze met his, and I knew he read the coldness in it when he took a step back.

“You will ask Nova nothing. You will not be present at any questioning. You will not go around me to do it on your own. You have shown zero empathy for victims and their families.”

Fire blazed in Pete’s eyes. “You seem pretty damn protective of her. You think Sherri needs to know about that?”

The muscle along my jaw fluttered wildly. “You didn’t see her. You weren’t the one who found her, so close to death you could feel it in the goddamned air. You weren’t the one who kept her alive. Who breathed for her when she couldn’t do it on her own. So, yeah, I’m fuckin’ protective. Because she shouldn’t have to live through even one more ounce of pain in this life.”

A hint of doubt flickered in Pete’s expression, and I thought I might’ve broken through, but then he doubled down. “Sounds like you’re a little too personally involved, Kol. Might be time for a reassignment.”

It took everything in me not to punch him. The only thing that held me back was the fact that doing it would get me suspended. But if they found out just how close I’d gotten to Nova? They’d fire me for sure.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Nova




IROLLED MY YOGA MAT OUT AS THE MORNING SUN CASCADED over the wide-planked wood floors of my apartment. It was time to try. To see if I could reclaim a small part of who I used to be.

Staring at the beautiful mat Kol had gotten for me, I stepped onto it. I pressed my feet into the foam and spread my toes out, gently stretching them. It felt … good.

Elongating my spine, I straightened into mountain pose. I stood tall, feeling the energy coursing through me. I stretched my neck taller and breathed.

The twitchiness started almost immediately—that need to move. To run. To hurl myself from a cliff into ice-cold water. Anything but feel.

A wave of dizziness spread through me, and I moved into downward dog. The stretch helped for a moment, but then I was battling snapshots. Memories? Nightmares? I didn’t know.

Hands tightening around my neck.

“No one’s looking for you, Nova. I’m all you have.”

I couldn’t suck in air. My lungs burned.

I shot to standing, shaking out my arms and legs. “It’s not real. You’re alive. You’re breathing. You’re not forgotten.”

Unshed tears sprang to my eyes at those last words, and I quickly swiped them away. My phone dinged, and I crossed to my bed where I’d left it, grateful for any distraction from the dumpster fire that was currently engulfing me.

KOL:

This is Sky



She sent a dozen emojis ranging from butterfly wings to a tiara to a sword, making me grin.

KOL:

Come to breakfast



KOL:

Dad says yes



KOL:

I have a thing for you



I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Me:

On my way.



I needed to pay them back for all these meals. Maybe I could make dinner. I used to do that a lot, trying out different dishes and cuisines. That could be the thing I reclaimed from my old life. Especially since it seemed yoga wouldn’t be it.

I quickly rolled up my mat, stowed it, and headed for the door. I stopped at the last second and cursed. Moving to my closet, I grabbed a sweatshirt to cover my arms.

As I pulled it over my head, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was so different from the one I’d grown up in. Homey with a four-seater table and Bigfoot salt and pepper shakers. Sky’s art was all over the fridge. And it was clean. Not an exacting sort of spotlessness, but certainly not messy. There were no rotting-food smells like I’d grown up with. No insects or mice. I shoved the memories down. “I heard there was breakfast.”

Kol looked up from his spot at the stove, those damn forearms on display as he flipped—yes, flipped—an omelet. “Just need to know what you like in your omelet.”