“No need,” a deep voice calls out from behind us. A group of figures emerges, the FBI agents finally stepping into view. Orion is in the front as he kneels beside Aubrey, a medical kit in hand.

His voice is calm and authoritative. “We came prepared.”

He pulls out a syringe and a small vial of charcoal solution, injecting it into Aubrey’s arm with practiced precision. “This will neutralize the poison,” he explains, his tone matter-of-fact. “But she’ll need further treatment at the hospital.”

Aubrey groans, her head lolling to the side as the antidote begins to take effect. Her defiance is gone, replaced by a vacant, defeated expression.

“You recorded everything,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

“We did,” Selene confirms, her tone cold. “And now, everyone will know the truth.”

The agents move swiftly, cuffing Aubrey and lifting her onto a stretcher. I watch as they carry her away, a strange mix of relief and exhaustion settling over me, pressing into my bones like a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying.

It’s over.

Not the way I wanted—not with some grand, satisfying conclusion where everything makes sense—but justice doesn’t care about what I want. My parents will never come back. Gabriel will never get the peace he deserves. But at least now, she can’t hurt anyone else.

“She thought she could control everything,” Mo says quietly, her gaze fixed on the retreating figures. “But in the end, she couldn’t even control herself.”

I nod, my jaw tight as I stare after the woman who raised me. “I think she truly did love Gabriel, but she destroyed him. For what?”

Selene places a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding. “For herself. She never loved anyone as much as she loved her secrets.”

The three of us stand there in the cemetery, the weight of the day pressing down on us. Aubrey is gone, but the scars she left behind will linger.

“She’s done now,” I say, my voice steady. “It’s over.”

For the first time, it feels like the truth.

The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel draws our attention. A figure emerges from the shadows between the trees, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the bright sunlight.

Bennett.

His presence is different tonight. There’s always been an edge to him, a sharpness honed by years of chasing ghosts and uncovering the things people would rather keep buried. But this—this is different. His fury is quiet, controlled, and lethal.

He doesn’t glance at us. His gaze is locked on Aubrey.

Her face goes pale the moment she sees him.

“You,” she growls, facing contorting.

Bennett doesn’t stop until he’s standing right beside the stretcher. His voice is low, and dangerous when he speaks. “You thought you could erase me, didn’t you?”

Aubrey’s lips part, but no words come out.