Chapter 2
Present Day
The house was too quiet. Hanna sat at the kitchen table, laptop open, but her mind miles away. She twirled a simple gold band between her fingers—Brian’s ring.
She used to wake to the feel of it against her skin. See it when he held Caitlyn, when he touched her cheek. Hear his voice promising, “Always, Hanna. It’ll always be you.”
The ring caught a sliver of moonlight, and just like that, the memory unfolded:
February 1995
Brian leaned against the doorway, still half in uniform, tie crooked, sleeves pushed back. For a second, he just stood there like the only thing in the room not spinning.
Hanna curled in the corner of the couch, arms around her knees. Even after seven years, he could still knock the breath out of her without trying.
His hair was damp from the weather, a few strands wild. He looked tired. Not just physically, but deeply. He almost smiled, almost.
“It’s too much, Brian.”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Hanna.”
“The venue, the dress, and your mother’s damn guest list—over three hundred people.”
Brian tipped his head back against the doorframe. His hands stayed in his pockets. The uniform stretched across his chest, but Hanna forced herself not to get distracted by it.
“It’s a wedding. Isn’t that the whole point? To show off?”
“Shouldn’t we get a say in it?” she snapped. “All the decisions are being made for us.”
Brian kept his voice level. “Then let’s just tell them the truth.”
“We can’t.”
He walked over and sat on the coffee table across from her. The air shifted. Closer now, she could see the faint crease between his brows, the tired edge in his eyes. She could smell the mix of rain and something that had always been uniquely him.
“What’s really holding us back?”
“They’ll lose it,” she whispered. “She won’t forgive us.”
“She will, eventually.”
“No, Brian. She has this perfect version of you. If we tell her we eloped—”
“She’ll be mad. She’ll deal.”
“You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
She looked away. “My whole life, I felt like I was never enough. Not the daughter she wanted. Not as good as Kevin. Not worth loving.”
Brian’s expression softened. “You are worth loving. Forget them.”
“Your mom… she’s the opposite. She loves you too much. If she knew—”
“She’ll still love me. She’ll still love you.”
“But she won’t see me the same. And I can’t take that.”
Brian reached for her hands. “Okay. Then we wait.”
Relief eased her shoulders. “Thank you.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “But after the wedding, we tell them. No more secrets.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Brian kissed her. Then his radio crackled from the counter. A call. Something urgent. He stiffened just slightly—just enough for her to feel it.
Present Day
It had been three years since she’d worn the ring. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to close the jewelry box. She slid the ring onto a chain, fastening it around her neck.
A chill crept up her spine. That feeling again like someone is watching.
The wind rustled the trees outside. The porch light flickered. Her heartbeat quickened. Nothing moved beyond the window, but the feeling lingered.
“Move,” she whispered to herself. Her hand reached for the phone.
“Mommy?”
Hanna startled. Caitlyn stood in the hallway, rubbing her eyes, clutching a stuffed animal. Her gray eyes were sleepy but curious. Hanna swallowed and forced calm into her voice.
“What is it, baby?”
“Bad dream.” Caitlyn climbed into her lap.
She held her close, running a hand through her curls. The child was all she had left of Brian. She saw him in her everyday.
Then—a knock.
Hanna flinched, her pulse jumping. She looked at the clock: 9:26. Just the wind. Just your imagination.
“Who’s at the door, Mama?”
“No one, baby.”
She carried Caitlyn back to bed, tucking her in with a kiss.
Another knock. Softer. Measured. It’s not meant to wake a child.
She returned to the front door, flipping the porch light on.
Nick.
She hesitated, not because she didn’t want to see him—but because she wasn’t sure she had the energy.
He stood there, hands in pockets, mist clinging to his coat. His eyes searched hers.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi, Nick.”
He stepped inside. She hugged him before he could lean in. It was warm. But not what he wanted.
He noticed the ring on the table. Didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. But the silence was heavy.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just tired.”
He nodded. “Come on. Let’s sit.”
She followed. Even as he reached for her hand, she glanced at the ring.
Nick didn’t touch it. But the way his fingers flexed against hers, she knew he’d seen it.
“Hanna,” he said, “I’m going to run a bath for you.”
It wasn’t a request. It was care. He gave her space. Gave her love. Even when she couldn’t give it back.
And as she watched him disappear down the hall, she knew. Even if she never loved him the way she loved Brian, Nick would always love her.
Great Meadow Correctional Facility
Richard sat on his bunk, flipping through papers—documents tied to Brian DeLuca. Across from him, Dom Russo watched.
“Didn’t think you cared about dead cops.”
Richard didn’t look up. “I don’t. I care about the people he left behind.”
Dom studied him. “That’s why you wanted to talk?”
Richard leaned back. Smirking. “Tell me about the DeLuca’s.”
Dom’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t poke them unless you’ve got a death wish.”
Richard’s fingers tightened around the file. “What if one of them is already on my side?”
He smiled. “Now talk.”
