Page 87 of Sworn to Protect

“We’re looking into the company. From what we’ve seen, it looks to be a shell corporation. Possibly a dummy account.”

A cold prickle crawls up my spine. “Who made these transfers?”

Stubbs hesitates. “Some were traced to your home server, but all were from through someone logging into your account.” A pause. Then, “Who has had access to your computer and passwords?”

My mouth dries. No. No. No.

I hate that his name is the first person to cometo mind. It’s not fair. But he’s the only one who’s been in my house. The only one who used my laptop the other morning.

It couldn’t be him.It can’t be.

My stomach churns. The idea of Nate betraying us makes me physically ill.

“Ms. Gillman?”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

I force the words out, but they taste like acid. “The only person in my house recently is Nate Dixon.”

The second his name leaves my lips, regret slams into me. Saying it feels like a betrayal.

“He’s the surgeon who helped save Liam, right?”

Sadness grips my gut and squeezes tightly. Nate has doneso muchfor our family. Ithoughthe had cared. Not out of obligation—but because he wanted to. That’s what hurts the most. I thought what we had was real. Not duty. Not pity. Just … us.

I squeeze my eyes shut.God, was I wrong?

“Yes,” I finally say. “But I don’t think he’d do something like this.”

“We’ll question him. If he cooperates, we won’t bring him in.” Stubbs pauses. “Also, do you know anyone who would’ve traveled to San Francisco recently?”

A sharp ringing fills my ears as my mouth dries. San Francisco.

I can barely choke out his name. “Only Nate.”

“Hmm.”

The low, considering sound in Stubbs’s voice makes my stomach plummet. Oh God.

“Honestly,” I rush out, “itcan’tbe him.”

“Well, we’ll see what he has to say. In the meantime, try to think of anyone else who’s had access to your computer.”

I barely nod before we hang up.

The phone slips from my hand onto the couch, but I don’t move to pick it up. My limbs feel heavy. Numb.

The movement outside my window catches my attention. The couple across the street pushes the baby stroller, their heads tiltedtoward each other. The woman looks up at her husband, eyes bright with laughter. He returns the look with a warm smile full of love.

I watch them disappear down the sidewalk, my chest aching. That’s what I want. Not the baby part, but the love. The ease. The absolute certainty in another person.

I close my eyes and exhale sharply. Why is that so damn hard to find?

But the bigger question. Why does it feel like I just lost my only real shot at it?

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

NATE

---