Chris was pulled from the forest to join the debriefing, and the more they compared notes, the more they were both certain that the entire plot had been executed as revenge for the failed mission in Belarus.

The days were long and emotionally grueling. He and Chris were put up in a house on the base, and he ended each night with a long FaceTime call with Audrey.

She was back in her house in Port Angeles. Her SUV had been transported to a body shop to repair the damage from the bullets. She had a rental car in the interim, but preferred to stay home as much as possible. Jae and Undine took turns sleeping in her guest bedroom because she didn’t want to be alone.

Mikhail was still out there, and she’d been named as one of his targets.

The unruly campers Jae had dealt with the first night were long gone from Forks by the time investigators showed up, but that didn’t mean they’d left the country. The police had her house on their regular drive-by schedule, she was the proud owner of a high-end alarm system, and she sported a new smartwatch, so she would never be without a phone.

Xavier ached to be with her, but the work he was doing was important, and they both knew it.

The nightly calls drew them closer together even as they were apart. They spent entire conversations talking about nothing related to the lodge events, just sharing their history and dreams for the future, and that, more than anything, healed pieces of Xavier’s shattered heart.

He knew he faced a long road to finding a way to forgive himself. Right now, it didn’t feel possible to take that leap as guilt weighed on him. But he also knew on an external, logical level, that it wasn’t his fault.

Someday, he’d get his heart to believe it.

Fig had grown to the size of a peapod—he found it a little odd that fruits and vegetables appeared to be the standard base measurement for fetus size—when Xavier was finally cut loose for two days’ leave.

A quick online search gave him the name of a peapod flower that could be found year-round, but he was disappointed when none of the florists nearby had bouquets on hand. Instead, he got Audrey two dozen roses and went to the grocery store and made a second bouquet of peapods.

He showed up on her doorstep with a bouquet in each hand, and the look on her face when she opened the door might have been the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Inside, she’d squealed when he set down the flowers and peas on the nearest flat surface and scooped her up, draping her over his right shoulder. “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Xavier, you’re injured! Put me down.”

“It’s been a week. I’m fine.”