Page 72 of Sighs By the Sea

Tilly slaps her arms at her side, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. “Break his heart? You’ve known him ten seconds! Of course, I was going to tell him. We’ve been trying to find her, get her help.”

“How? How exactly were you going to help her? You know she’s pregnant with some gang member’s kid?”

Tilly’s face pales, and she takes a step back, shaking her head. “Fuck.” She mumbles it before looking back at me. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Because, Tilly, we have to tell him. Maybe he’s the only one who can help her.”

Tilly takes another step back and raises a hand to keep me at bay. “She doesn’t deserve help. She abandoned him and her son. I have no sympathy. And sleeping with Don? That’s sick.” Her face almost looks green at the thought.

“She is sick. It’s a disease, Tilly.”

But Tilly is already walking away. “Tilly, wait!”

“No! I… I need to think.” She flounces away toward her car. I want to follow her, to beg her not to say anything to Grayson until I can explain things to him. But before I can, my phone rings, and I see Harry’s name.

“Yeah?” I answer, my voice tight. Tilly is already climbing into her car. If I thought we could continue our conversation, I was obviously wrong.

“Hey, sweetheart. Got a minute?”

No. I really don't. I have a million things to look into now and no time to do it. Forget that I'm two hundred miles away from my house, and even further from Gray. I squeeze my eyes shut as Tilly's car speeds out of the lot, kicking up gravel and dust as she does. “What is it, Harry?”

“I got in touch with the prison. Guess who got work release?” Work release? For a mob member? Are the courts fucking kidding me? My grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. Fuck. Fuckity hell. My eyes open again, widening as far as they can go. “Where is he?”

“In the wind. Skipped out on his first day and has a warrant for his arrest. But I’m guessing if we cut a certain pregnant lady loose, she might lead us straight to him.” We've been holding Suze since we brought her in. Since 72 hours is the limit, we would have released her soon anyway. Watching her is a good idea. Especially if my hunch that Don was the one that organized all this is correct.

“I’ll be there in two hours,” I say.

“No way, you’re way too involved. I’ll call in Jones for this. He owes me a favor.”

“Fine. Keep me updated.” I click off the call and rub my temple. This is unraveling faster than I ever could have anticipated. Now I have a found wife, a lost brother, and a pissed-off cousin. This family is proving to be far more troubling than I ever imagined.

But one thing is for certain—it's long past time I spoke with Grayson.

Grayson

I'm still walking down the sidewalk, clutching the pictures tightly in my fist, but I haven’t looked at them again. Cars pass, and people stare, but I don’t care. The world around me feels distant, blurred by the knowledge that my wife is alive. Not just alive, but possibly close by. One of the photos shows a familiar California burger place—In-N-Out—a favorite of Suzannah's. And Miranda knew. Tilly probably knows, too.

My legs suddenly feel weak, and I stop walking, sinking down onto the sidewalk. The weight of it all presses down on me.

Maggie knew. She must have figured it out. That’s why she was so upset. I let my head fall into my hands, dejection settling deep in my bones.

A car pulls up, and I glance up to see Miranda in the driver’s seat. “Gray, get in the car,” she says, her voice soft but insistent.

I don’t move, just stare out into the road. I hear the car door open and close as she comes to my side. She sits down next to me on the sidewalk, her presence both comforting and a reminder of the betrayal. “Look, I know this is… fucking crazy. Tilly and I were going to tell you last night, but we chickened out.” She sighs heavily. “Greg’s PI found her a few days ago.”

The words hang in the air between us, and I still can’t speak.

“Get in the car, Grayson. I’ll take you home, and we can talk.”

“Where is she? Where’s Suzannah?” I finally ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I have no idea,” Miranda admits. "But this is why we wanted you to change the life insurance, Gray. Don't you see what could happen?"

I shake my head. That's the last thing I want to revisit right now. It will need to be dealt with eventually, but not today. Handing the crumpled photos over to her roughly, I say, “Just go, Andy.”

She hesitates, her eyes searching mine, but eventually, she gets up. “Call me if you need anything,” she says before hurrying back to her car. I hear the car door slam, and her Jag speeds away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

For what feels like an eternity, I stay there on the sidewalk, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, I force myself to stand. I need to get home, away from the prying eyes of strangers and the noise of the city. As I walk, I find myself studying every face that passes, wondering if Suzannah could be among them. How many times have I walked by her without knowing?

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