Page 129 of Buried Too Deep

She shook her head, her misery palpable. “I don’t think so. I can try to get something. I’ll…” Her voice broke. “It can’t be true. Patrick could not have killed my father. I just can’t believe that.”

She turned away, choking back a sob.

Phin set the yearbooks aside and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay to let go.”

That seemed to have been all the permission she needed. Her sobs racked her body. It was gut-wrenching to listen to, to see her fall apart like this. Phin looked helplessly over her head at Burke.

Burke looked grim. “I’ll go down and see what else Antoine’s found.” He rose, grimacing, then gripped Phin’s shoulder. “You okay, Phin?”

Phin nodded. Then shook his head. Because he wasn’t. Cora’s sobs were breaking his heart. “No, but I will be.”

So would Cora. He’d make sure of it.

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 15, 4:45 P.M.

Cora’s head hurt. Her eyes were sore. Her heart ached.

She’d known heartbreak before. She’d sat by her mother’s coffin, saying goodbye. And by her grandmother’s. And by John Robert’s.

But this?

This was different. This was betrayal, and it cut so deep that she could barely breathe.

Patrick knew my father.

He had to have known him. Had they just attended the same university, even at the same time, Cora could have brushed that off. She might have been able to brush off both being in the same major. But they’d pledged to the same fraternity, and fraternity brothers knew each other.

“How is this possible?” she whispered.

Phin’s arms tightened around her as they sat on her attic floor, surrounded by boxes filled with her past. “I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t had to tell you.”

She sighed, patting his chest. “You’re trying to keep me safe. I understand that. And what you found is…incriminating on its face.”

But not set in stone. Not yet. There were explanations.

There had to be explanations.

“We’ll dig more,” Phin murmured, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. “I promise.”

“It’s not your job, Phin,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to add to this bad situation by asking you to take on more stress.”

He stiffened, his arms going rigid, letting her know that she’d misstepped. But he didn’t let her go. And when he spoke, it was with a tenderness that made her eyes burn again.

“I would take on a lot more stress to keep you safe,” he said. “And, while I’m not at a hundred percent, I’m much better than I would have been even a few months ago.” He pressed another kiss to her temple. “Let’s worry about you, okay?”

She breathed him in. This man was a little bit broken, but he was putting himself back together in real time. And he needed to help her. She knew that as well as she knew that she needed to help him, too.

“What are we doing here, Phin?”

His arms loosened only enough for him to flatten one hand over her back, rubbing in slow circles. “I’m not sure. But I haven’t felt for a long time. I didn’t want to feel a single thing. Because then I’d feel everything.”

She was quiet for a moment, considering his words. “Everything is overwhelming.”

“Yes.” There was relief in that one word. “It really is.”

“And now? Do you want to feel?”

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