Page 100 of Say You're Mine

As he turns to leave, a thought strikes me. "Wait," I call after him. "It's over isn't it?"

Dante freezes, his back to me. "Cara-"

"Don't lie to me," I cut him off. "Not again. Please."

He turns slowly, guilt written across his face. "Yes," he admits. "June's gone, we can't find him."

The tears I've been holding back spill over, hot trails down my cheeks. "Take me home," I say. "I need... I need to go home."

Dante hesitates, but must see the determination in my eyes. He nods, helping me to my feet.

The drive home is silent, heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As we pull up to the house – my house, our house, the home June and I had built together – I feel a wave of dread wash over me. What will I find inside? What secrets have been kept from me in my own home?

Dante must sense my hesitation. "Do you want me to come in with you?" he asks softly.

I shake my head. This is something I have to do alone.

The house is exactly as I left it, but it feels different now. Charged with an energy I can't quite name. I move through the rooms like a ghost, touching things that June has touched, breathing in the scent of him that still lingers in the air.

I end up in front of the nursery door, my hand trembling on the knob. For a moment, I'm paralyzed with fear. What if it's not what I'm hoping for? What if it's just another disappointment in a long line of letdowns?

But I force myself to turn the handle, to step into the room that will be our child's sanctuary.

And there it is.

The mural stretches across the far wall, a fantastical scene of forests and mountains, of creatures both real and imagined. It's everything we'd dreamed of and more, brought to life by talented hands.

But it's the details that undo me. The tiny castle nestled in the crook of a tree, just like the one in the story my father used to tell me. The family of bears that look suspiciously like cartoon versions of June, me, and our unborn child. And there, hidden in the branches of an ancient oak, two sets of initials carved into the bark: J+C.

I sink to my knees, overcome by the beauty of it, by the love poured into simple brushstrokes. It's a message. A promise.

I'm here. I'm watching over you both. I love you.

As I trace the lines of the mural with trembling fingers, I make a silent vow of my own. I will find you, June. I will bring you home. And together, we'll create the future we've painted on these walls.

No matter the cost. No matter the danger.

We will be a family again.

The baby kicks, strong and insistent, as if in agreement. I smile through my tears, cradling my belly.

"That's right, little one," I whisper. "Daddy's coming home. And nothing in this world is going to stop us."

Chapter thirty-one

June

The church air is thick with the scent of lilies and grief. It clogs my throat, threatening to choke me as I stand in the shadows at the back of the room. My hands shake, and I clench them into fists, nails biting into my palms. The pain grounds me, keeps me from losing my shit entirely as I watch the love of my life eulogize me.

Cara.

She stands at the podium, a vision in black, her belly swollen with our child. Even from here, I can see the tremor in her hands, the way she grips the edge of the lectern like it's the only thing keeping her upright. Her voice carries, strong despite the tears that glisten on her cheeks.

"June was a force of nature," she says, and Christ, the irony of those words nearly brings me to my knees.

I shouldn't be here. Every instinct screams at me to run, to stick to the goddamn plan. But the message I received last night changes everything.

"We know where your wife is, Mr. Deveaux. Tick tock."

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