Page 67 of Madness

"I know, sweetie. Stay here and keep working on your letters, okay?"

I open the door to find a sleek, professional-looking woman standing on my porch. Her crisp suit and perfectly coiffed dark hair seem out of place in our modest neighborhood.

"Lauren Hudson?" she asks, her voice clipped and efficient.

I nod, suddenly self-conscious of my messy ponytail and the stain on my t-shirt from Roman's lunch.

"I'm Cassidy Townsend, the lawyer for Blackmore Records." She extends a hand, which I shake automatically, my mind reeling. Blackmore Records. Dakota's label.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, my heart rate picking up. "Is Dakota?—"

"Dakota is fine," she interrupts smoothly, a gentleness and reassurance now in her voice. "I'm here on his behalf to deliver this." She holds out a large manila envelope, sealed and unmarked.

I take it. The weight of it surprises me. "What is it?"

"The police report he requested," Cassidy says, her expression now sympathetic. "He asked me to tell you that it's entirely up to you whether you want to open it or not. He'll respect your decision either way."

The police report. About Miles and Chloe. My hands start to shake slightly.

"Thank you," I manage to say.

Cassidy nods and hesitates briefly. "Take care, Lauren."

As she walks back to her car, I close the door, leaning against it for support. The envelope in my hands suddenly feels like it weighs a ton.

"Mommy?" Roman's voice pulls me back to reality. "Who was that lady?"

"Just... just someone delivering something for Mommy," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "How about we take a break from letters and watch a movie?"

Roman cheers, the alphabet forgotten, as I set up his favorite cartoon. But even as I sit next to him on the couch, my mind is elsewhere.

The envelope sits on the kitchen counter, a ticking time bomb of information. Do I want to know what's inside? Do I want to uncover the truth about Miles and Chloe? And what will it mean for Dakota and me if I do?

I think about Dakota, about the effort it must have taken to get this report, to respect my need for space and send it through a lawyer instead of coming himself. I think about the past few weeks and how I've thrown myself into my studies and into being there for Roman. How I've tried not to think about Dakota and failed miserably.

The truth is, I love him. Despite everything, despite my fears and doubts, I love him. But is love enough? Is it enough to overcome addiction, distance, and the ghosts of our pasts?

As Roman laughs at something on screen, I make a decision. I'll open the envelope. Whatever's inside, I'll face it. Because that's what I do now – I face things head-on, for myself and for Roman.

But not tonight. Tonight, I'll sit here with my son and enjoy this moment of peace. Tomorrow is soon enough to uncover the secrets of the past.

For now, I let myself remember Dakota's smile, and the sound of his laugh. I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find our way back to each other.

But first, I need to find my way back to myself.

The manila envelope sits on my kitchen table, its edges crisp and unmarked, a stark contrast to the scattered crayons and cheerios that surround it. I can almost feel its presence, a physical weight in the room.

My fingers drum an anxious rhythm on the worn wooden tabletop. The house is quiet, too quiet without Roman's chatter or the usual background noise of cartoons. The silence feels oppressive, amplifying the thoughts swirling in my head.

I need to talk this through with someone, and I know exactly who to call.

I dial Shannon's number, my hands shaking slightly. She picks up on the second ring.

"Lauren? Is everything okay?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Hey, Shan. I... I need some advice."

There's a rustling on the other end, and I can picture Shannon settling in for a serious conversation. "I'm all ears. What's going on?"

---