Page 92 of Stolen Dreams

Scarlett takes my hand and braces it with her other in a show of support. “We’re always here for you. If I’m unavailable, don’t hesitate to ask for Emery.” Pride shines in her eyes at the mention of her daughter. “She will go to battle and come out the victor.” Scarlett gestures to the door. “I’ll introduce you on the way out.”

My conversation with Emery Barron is brief but enough to let me know who she is as a person. Determined, bold, kindhearted. Having either Scarlett or Emery—or both—in my corner is an honor and privilege and assuages my anxiety more. With them, I feel like I have a fighting chance.

At the police department, I’m directed to the other Emerson—Travis, the chief’s son. Over an hour passes as I recount myhistory with Brianna and her recent reappearance. Travis types furiously on his computer, documenting every word. When I finish and inhale my first full breath since walking through the door, he gives me a well-practiced smile.

“Your call, but a restraining order should be put in place.” Travis leans back in his chair, his fingers tapping the arms. “It’s another layer of protection for you and Tucker.”

“Really think we need it?” Would a restraining order do anything? It’s a piece of paper, not a steel wall.

Travis rests his forearms on the desk and leans forward. “Will it keep her away?” Pursing his lips, he shakes his head. “No. What it will do is tell a judge you are concerned for Tucker’s well-being and your own.” A look of understanding crosses his features. “For your son’s sake, I hope it’s unnecessary. But if something does happen, that piece of paper works in your favor. It’s ammunition to put her behind bars.”

Never imagined myself in this position—filing a restraining order against someone from my past. An online stalker? Sure. I’ve seen followers turn obsessive, possessive. But someone I once cared for? Never. And the reality of it makes my stomach churn.

“Fine,” I acquiesce. “Do it.” While Travis fills out paperwork, I ask him about the security and investigation firm. If he’s worked with them and his opinion. “Wanted to see if they’ll dig into Brianna’s past. Maybe find something I can leverage. Possibly what her life was like when she had Tucker.”

“We worked with them on recent cases. Top-notch. Thorough.” His fingers pause over the keyboard. “Levi’s a buddy and genius-level smart, but don’t take offense if he doesn’t work your case. He’s been through some stuff.”

I may not know the case details, but I do know Levi was part of a major investigation last year that turned his life upside down. And the only reason I know that much is because myparents spoke with the West family often, on an endless mission to join my sister and Levi in holy matrimony. It was doomed from the start but got infinitely worse when Abigail took it too far. Since then, interactions with the West family have been… strained.

When Tucker ran up to Levi’s boyfriend, Oliver, at the Memorial Day Festival a couple months ago, I wanted to apologize to Levi—for what happened to him, for the way my family and his treated him, for every absurd dinner he was forced to attend at my parents’ house or his. No one deserves what he went through. I’m in awe of his strength and perseverance.

I acknowledge with a nod. “I have no expectations. Only hope.”

By early evening, I wrap up with Travis and drive around the block to Tymber Woulf Security and Investigative Services. Tymber walks me into his office, closes the door, and asks me to share my story.

I leave nothing out.

Tymber says he’ll run lead on my case. That Levi, with his extensive research skills, will likely join later. “If there’s a trail, we’ll find it. You have my word.” Tymber walks me to my car. “We’re damn good at what we do.”

Relief washes over me as I unlock the car. “Thanks, man. Your help is priceless. Pass my appreciation on to Levi.”

“Will do.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. Reach out with any updates, no matter the hour.”

Twilight indigo paints the sky as I exit the parking lot. For the first time in years, confidence and optimism outweigh fear and hurt, and I breathe easier.

The road forward may be bumpy, but at least we will reach the other side unscathed.

TWENTY-SIX

KAYA

Tucker,Erin—the other student at our table—and I add the finishing touches to our s’mores camping cake. As I arrange rock-shaped chocolate candies and mini pretzel sticks for the campfire, I peek over at Ray as he travels the room and praises the kids. His smile is endearing, kind, but doesn’t reach his eyes.

Since Brianna’s note, the light has dimmed in Ray’s eyes. In less than two weeks, I’ve watched him go from confident and exuberant to leery and downcast—though he puts on a good front—and it breaks my heart. No one should have to live like this—in fear or constantly looking over their shoulder.

Brianna weaseled her way into town and demanded an obscene amount of money from Ray. The attorney, police, and security firm all say not to respond to the letter. That Brianna likely dug herself deep and is pressuring everyone for help. Replying will only lead to more problems.

God, I want them to be right. I want to have faith in Stone Bay law enforcement and Ray’s legal team. But I also can’t ignore the twinge in my side. The constant pinch telling me to be cautious, alert, vigilant. Because we already know how calculating and heartless Brianna can be.

Ray steps behind Tucker and rests his hands on Tucker’s shoulders. “Looks incredible, T-Man. You, Erin, and Kaya did a great job.”

Tucker sits taller and Erin blushes, both gleaming under his approval. Erin puts the last of the rock candies on the outer edge of the cake while Tucker skewers mini marshmallows on toothpicks and sets them on the mini peanut butter cups.

For a heartbeat, Ray glances my way, and the wariness fades. For a fraction of time, I see a hint of fire in his gaze. But as quickly as it appears, the glint vanishes.

Ray heads for the front of the room and assumes his position behind the counter, facing the group. “Maybe you all should teach the next class,” he teases, and everyone laughs. “Seriously. Your work has been inspiring. Be proud. Brag about your accomplishments.”

He claps and everyone joins in, a few rowdy cheers from the preteens.

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