Izzy folds her arms, unimpressed. “Y’all own the biggest cyber-security company in the country, Gabe. Screw turning over a new leaf. We need to turn over the whole damn tree to get justice for our girl.”

The men exchange a look. Then, Gabe exhales sharply, rubbing his jaw before finally nodding. “We’ll do what we can. We’ll try to find the buried reports—everything they erased.”

“And I’ll work with Governor Carter and Judge Boom to see if they can use their influence to open an internal investigation into the police department. They can be trusted, and from my understanding, there are a whole lot of people who have been done wrong since this town merger. They’ll be keen to take Cory and his family down.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I ask, feeling like I need to fix everything with my own hands.

Serena softens, shaking her head. “Just take care of her, Vic. Be the strength she needs while hers builds back up.”

I nod, taking in her words.

The Kinds stay behind while the rest of the group gradually disperses, each person determined to play their part in taking Cory down.

But my part starts now.

I head to my library, flipping through one ethnobotanical book after another. The crisp night air cools the fire still simmering beneath my skin as I step into my garden, gathering arnica leaves for her bruises, comfrey for her muscles, and calendula to soothe her skin. Then, I head to the kitchen and begin making my ointments, pouring my frustration into the careful preparation of every remedy.

Hours pass. Kerry’s parents have settled into the guest room, the house is still, and when I check the clock, 2 a.m. stares back at me. Exhaustion claws at the edges of my consciousness, but before I can think about resting, a soft, strained voice cuts through the quiet.

“Vic.”

I move toward her room, careful not to wake the girls. When I step inside, Kerry is frowning, shifting in discomfort, her hand instinctively reaching for her back.

“Hey, you might be a little sore,” I warn.

She groans, eyes fluttering open. “I’m more than sore, Vic. I’m dirty. I can’t believe you let me lay in this bed after being on that disgusting bathroom floor.”

This woman.

“You do kind of smell.” I huff out a quiet laugh.

She gasps playfully but only to wince in pain.

“See?” I shake my head. “I told you to take it easy. Let me take care of you.”

For once, she doesn’t argue. She just nods.

I step into the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water before adding mugwort and white willow bark. The steam curls into the air, laced with the scent of healing.