Page 88 of Hidden Memories

“Kat…” Anton steps closer, his dark blue eyes steady on mine. “This isn’t safe. Julia’s house isn’t secure enough. You and Theo need to come to Monarch Hills.”

I shake my head, the words coming automatically. “I can’t. I can’t bring this danger there, too. What if they follow us there? What if…?”

Gabriel interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “Monarch Hills is built for this. We have security there. We have the resources to handle this kind of threat.”

I look between them, my heart pounding. I don’t doubt their intentions, but the idea of uprooting Theo again, of relying on Santi, is stepping into quicksand.

I glance at Julia for reassurance, and she simply nods with one of those apologetic, thin-lipped smiles.

“You’re not doing this alone,” Anton says, even softer now. “This isn’t just about you, Kat. Julia has already agreed to stay with Luis at the ranch. And Theo?” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Anton might not be a parent, but this man guarded Ava for years and knows what it feels like to be one. He simply adds, “Let us help you.”

My gaze shifts to Theo, still chasing Keeper in the yard, blissful, innocent. I think about the cameras, about the flash drives, about the people who’ve been invading our lives in ways I can’t fully comprehend. And I think about Santi’s kiss, the way it shook something loose inside me I’d kept locked away for so long. My feelings for him are clouding everything, making it hard to see the right path.

But what am I going to do? Everyone is too nice to say it, but I don’t have a choice.Not if I want to keep my son safe.

My pulse hammers. Anton’s expression is steady and reassuring. Gabriel’s sharp gaze doesn’t waver. They’re offering safety. A way out.

I should be relieved.

But Monarch Hills isn’t just security—it’s Santi. It’s stepping into the past. I can tell myself it’s about Gabriel and Anton, about gates and locks and surveillance. But the second I step onto that land, I know the lines will blur. And I don’t know if I can afford that. I don’t know if I can afford him.

I can’t let Santi be the answer to questions I still need to figure out for myself.

This is just about keeping Theo safe.

It has to be.

I steal another glance at my son. He’s still running, still laughing, still whole. He doesn’t know the world is closing in.

And maybe that’s the point. Allowing him to live in my shelter is everything.

The wind shifts, carrying the scent of earth and leaves, and suddenly, the backyard doesn’t feel as safe as it did five minutes ago. A car engine pops in the distance, and my pulse jumps before I even register why. Every shadow, every unfamiliar sound is sharper now, more insidious.

I swallow hard, ignoring the way my hands curl into fists at my sides. This isn’t a choice. It’s survival.

“Okay. We’ll come to Monarch Hills.”

Anton appears relieved, maybe he expected a bigger fight on his hands. Gabriel pulls out his phone to make arrangements. But I can’t seem to move. I peek over at Theo and Keeper, at the quiet ease of this moment.

And I make one last promise.

I won’t mistake comfort for love.

I won’t let Santi cloud my judgment.

I won’t let my feelings for him unravel the healing I’ve barely begun.

This is about Theo. About safety. I repeat it over and over, like an incantation, a prayer.

But no matter how many times I say it, a lie is still a lie. And I don’t believe a damn word of it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

PRESENT

The driveto Monarch Hills is silent, save for the hum of the tires on the road and the occasional rustle from Theo in the backseat. He clutches Keeper’s leash tightly, even though the dog is sprawled out beside him, dozing peacefully. I glance at him in the rearview mirror, his blue eyes fixed on the passing scenery. He hasn’t said much since we left Julia’s, and I can’t blame him. Uprooting his life again, even temporarily, is another upheaval he didn’t ask for.

My fingers twitch on my lap, restless, I’m unsure of how to lift the weight pressing down on me. Ireach for the air controls, twisting the dial aimlessly, but the truth is, nothing will fix this tightness in my chest. Not the cold. Not the heat. And not the feeling that somewhere, out there, someone is still watching.

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