The road twisted through endless hills as James drove like the devil was on our heels.
Maybe he was.
The worn leather journal lay on my lap, the final threads of my mother's truth barely held together by faded ink and time. It felt like holding a piece of her heartbeat. Of her pain. Of the life she never got to finish.
James glanced at me every few seconds. Not with pity. But with something quieter. More dangerous.
Fear. For me.
We didn't speak until the car pulled into a secluded gravel road, framed by dense trees and silence so thick it felt sacred.
A sleek black security gate slid open at our arrival, revealing a modern glass house nestled on a hillside, overlooking a private lake.
"My retreat," James said as we parked. "No one knows I own it. Not even Ethan."
I nodded silently, taking in the calm beauty of the house — the way the windows welcomed the forest instead of hiding from it. It was the kind of place people went when they needed to disappear.
James opened the door for me. "You'll be safe here. I promise."
I followed him inside.
The moment the door closed behind us, the tension snapped — not the danger, not the fear — but the invisible string that had pulled us tighter and tighter since the kiss in the rain.
"I still don't understand why my mother would write about the Blakes like that," I whispered, placing the journal gently on the glass table. "She trusted them. I thought she did."
James stood beside me, his voice low. "Maybe she did once. But when power's involved, trust dies fast."
"I was just a baby," I said. "How could they smile at me, feed me, dress me… knowing what they did to her?"
His hand brushed mine.
"They thought they buried the truth with her. But they didn't know she'd write it down. And they sure as hell didn't expect you to come back strong enough to fight."
I turned to face him.
He was closer than I thought.
His eyes searched mine. Not possessive. Not desperate.
Just… honest.
"You didn't have to bring me here," I said. "You didn't have to protect me."
He shrugged slightly. "I've been protecting you since we were kids. Even when you didn't know it."
I smiled faintly. "No. You were hiding your chocolate bars in my coat pocket."
"And threatening boys who looked at you for too long."
I blinked. "Wait… what?"
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. You never noticed. Ethan would've killed me if he knew, but I always had eyes on you. Always."
My heart slowed. Then pounded.
"You… liked me back then?"
He didn't smile this time. He just said the words I didn't expect.
> "I loved you, Amelia. I still do."
Silence.
Thunderous, warm silence that left me breathless.
He stepped closer. "I wanted to say it before. After the kiss. After Eleanor said your mother's name. But I knew it would sound like a distraction. Like I was trying to use your pain for something selfish."
He reached up, brushing a tear I didn't know had fallen.
"But I'm not. I'm in this. All of it. The danger. The truth. You."
I didn't say anything.
I just closed the space between us and kissed him.
It wasn't like the first time — frantic and stolen.
This one was slow. Deep. Filled with everything unspoken. All the years we spent circling each other like stars in orbit, always close, never touching.
His hands framed my face. Mine tangled in his shirt. The air between us vanished.
And for the first time in forever, I didn't feel like a broken orphan girl clinging to the pieces of someone else's story.
I felt like myself.
Seen.
Wanted.
Loved.
When we finally pulled apart, James rested his forehead against mine.
"Whatever comes next," he said, voice hoarse, "I'm not letting them take you away again."
I nodded. "We bring the truth to light. For Sophia. For Eleanor. For us."
A beep sounded from his watch. James glanced down.
Then cursed.
"What is it?" I asked.
He showed me the message flashing across the screen.
> "They found the cabin."
I froze. "How?"
James's jaw tightened. "Only one way… someone inside my father's company is feeding them information."
He looked at me, fire burning behind his calm.
"We're running out of time."