Page 59 of The Matchmaker

“It’s an ongoing investigation,” the officer begins. But then, taking in my expression, he lowers his voice. “Look, they’re unharmed. The guy’s phone activity led us straight to one of thosefancy lakeside cabin-mansion combos out in Woodstock—same place we found your cat. Property belongs to the suspect’s father. We found the guy’s car parked around the corner from where he confronted you. His trunk had ropes, zip ties, drugs—it’s an open-and-shut case, really. Your friend’ll be going home soon.”

I let out a trembly breath. Lena and Tanvir are safe. Darcy will be released. My stalker is dead. It’s over. I wait for relief to envelop me, but instead I feel like I’ve slipped into an ice bath.

—

The bell chimes overhead when I step into the office the next morning.

“Nura!” Genevieve jumps up from her desk. Hurries toward me. “How are you even here?”

“You need a month off after everything that happened,” says Borzu.

“I’m only here—literally standing here—because you saved my life.” I choke up. “If you all hadn’t been working on this late into the night, figuring out who it was…”

“Darcy figured it out,” Borzu says. “She went through Lena’s file. Even your old spiral notebooks, page by page. She found a throwaway line about a man named Farhan who’d gotten obsessed with her. I did a search in our company-wide emails and found his name in your inbox.”

“Mine?”

“Basit Latif mentioned his son’s name in your initial email correspondence. That’s when everything started to fit. It took a minute to triangulate his whereabouts, but when we realized he was in Atlanta, we knew we had a problem.”

The front door chimes again. Darcy. She’s dressedimpeccably as always in a solid shift dress. She barely makes it inside before we tackle her into a group hug.

“I’m okay.” She hugs us back. “Really.”

We spoke on the phone after she was released from the police station, but this is our first time seeing each other face-to-face. I try to speak, but tears spill instead. What can I say to the person who saved my life? No words will do.

“Thanks, Darcy,” I finally manage to say.

“The way that girl ran out the door once Borzu identified the location!” Genevieve lets out a low whistle. “She had major ‘mother lifting a car to protect her baby’ energy.”

“I just…I can’t believe it really happened,” Darcy says. “That image of him with the gun pointed at you, it’s burned into my brain.”

“It’s over now. Thanks to you. I can’t believe you’re in the office today,” I tell her. “Go home and get some rest. Honestly, you hereby have my permission to quit here and now and still get a paycheck from me for the rest of your life.”

“I can’t stay home. I just keep replaying the night over and over in my head. I’d rather be here and get my mind off of it if I can. For a little while at least,” Darcy says. “I have a meeting with my lawyer in a few hours. Until then, I want to busy myself as much as possible.”

“Lawyer?” Genevieve frowns.

“Nura got me all set up.” Darcy looks at me tearfully. “Thanks again.”

“Of course,” I tell her. “The agency has your back one hundred percent.”

“Why do you need a lawyer?” Genevieve asks. “There is no prosecutor in the world who would bring a case against you.”

“Genevieve’s right,” I say. “It’s just a matter of dotting the i’sand crossing the t’s. This will be in your rearview mirror in no time.”

“I hope you’re right,” Darcy says. “I can’t believe Ikilledsomeone.”

“It was self-defense! And Nura defense. I’m sure Nura’s aunt’s security cameras captured at least some of the exchange,” says Borzu. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“See, this is exactly why I wanted to come in. I was coming up with all the worst-case scenarios. I feel a little more centered now.”

I understand how Darcy’s feeling. It’s good to be with people, and maybe work will clearallour heads. Except it turns out that none of us can work today. With the wall-to-wall press coverage about Lena and Tanvir’s rescue, we stay gathered in the conference room, sharing updates back and forth.

“Looks like there’s a new video from Lena,” says Borzu. He mirrors his phone to the screen. “It was posted a few minutes ago.”

There’s Lena on the television. Her first public statement. Her face is devoid of makeup. Her eyes are red and puffy. Her fiancé sits by her side.

“These have been the most terrifying few days of my life,” she says, her voice welling with emotion. “We were tied up. Blindfolded. We didn’t know where we were. If anyone could hear our screams. I didn’t know if we’d make it out alive. I was making my peace with the end.”

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