Page 25 of Silent Neighbor

Sheila sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know. It's just... I get the feeling he's thinking long-term. Really long-term. Like, marriage and kids long-term. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

"Not really," Sheila admitted, guilt coloring her words. "I guess I'm worried he's going to propose or something, and I don't know how to handle that."

Gabe was quiet for a moment, the silence stretching between them. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, filled with the wisdom of years. "Sheila, honey, you know that even if Finn did propose, you can say no, right? You're not trapped. You always have a choice."

"I know, Dad. It's just... complicated."

"Love usually is," Gabe said with a chuckle, the sound warm and familiar. "But that's what makes it worth it."

Sheila kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk, watching it skitter across the pavement. "In other news, I put in my application for sheriff," she said.

The rhythmic sound of Gabe's sanding paused. "That's great news, sweetheart. So why do you sound like you're heading to a funeral?"

Sheila exhaled heavily, her breath visible in the cool evening air. "It's just... it's Natalie's job, you know? I keep thinking about how she'd handle things, wondering if I'm making the right choices."

"Ah," Gabe said softly. The creak of his old wooden chair carried through the phone as he shifted. "You know, I had similar doubts about myself when I first became sheriff."

Sheila's eyebrows shot up. "You did?"

"Oh, yeah," Gabe chuckled. "I was constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if I was living up to the legacy of those who came before me."

"How did you get past it?"

The sanding resumed, a gentle backdrop to Gabe's words. "I realized something important, Sheila. The job isn't about filling someone else's shoes. It's about bringing your own strengths to the table."

Sheila leaned back against the wall, letting her father's words sink in. "I never knew you struggled with that."

"Never saw the point in burdening you kids with it," Gabe said. "But let me tell you something. You've got instincts that rival any sheriff I've ever known—including myself and Natalie."

"Dad—" Sheila started to protest.

"No, listen," Gabe interrupted, his voice firm. "The job's gonna be tough. There'll be days when you question every decision. But remember this: You're not Natalie, and you're not me. You're Sheila Stone, and that's exactly who Coldwater needs."

Sheila felt a lump forming in her throat. She swallowed hard before responding. "Thanks, Dad. I... I really needed to hear that."

"Anytime, sweetheart," Gabe said warmly. "Besides, you only get one life. This is a chance for you to make a difference. I know you're doing important work now, but as sheriff you can do even more—really leave your mark on this community. Opportunities like that don't come along every day."

Sheila fell silent, unsure what to say to that. Before she could think of a reply, the station door opened behind her. She turned to see Finn approaching, his face set in a grim expression that immediately set her on edge.

"Dad, I've got to go," Sheila said, her heart rate picking up. "Something's come up."

"Alright, sweetheart. Remember, I'm always here if you need to talk."

Sheila ended the call and turned to Finn, her body tensing in anticipation of bad news. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Finn's face was grim. "We've got another body."

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