Page 26 of When You're Lost

She disappeared through a set of double doors.

“Sure.Tomorrow,” Finn echoed.

Another wave of exhaustion hit him.He grabbed his coat and exited the building into the cool night air, and as he did so his own phone vibrated.He pulled it out.

A text from Amelia:

“Can I stay tonight?Think I need a shoulder.”

A small smile made its way to Finn's tired expression.Worry and relief mixed in his chest.He typed back:

“Of course.Always.x”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Finn stood in the cottage's small but cozy kitchen, ladle in hand, stirring a simmering pot of marinara sauce.The aroma of fresh basil and garlic wafted through the air, mingling with the lingering scent of candles he'd lit earlier in the adjoining living area.He paused a moment, letting the scent fill his lungs, then carefully tasted a spoonful.

Perfect.Maybe a touch more salt.

He set the ladle aside, glancing around the modest space that served as the cottage’s entire culinary domain—only a few feet of counter, plus an old gas stove and a small round table against the wall.Despite its simplicity, he appreciated how it all felt so personal, so different from any big-city apartment he’d rented in the past.This was his haven now: the walls painted a soothing pale green, a couple of framed prints hung near the window, and small wooden shelves held spices and mismatched china.

From the adjoining living area, a soft glow cast dancing shadows on the walls, thanks to the row of candles Finn had arranged.He wanted something warm, inviting—especially tonight.A break in the chaos of their investigations felt overdue, and he needed it every bit as much as Amelia did.The thought of her made him smile despite the tension still twisting in his gut from recent events.

He switched off the burner, checking on the lightly browned garlic bread in the oven, then arranged the plates on a tray: spaghetti tangled under rich red sauce, a side salad dotted with olives and feta, and a slice of the bread for each.He’d poured two glasses of red wine already.Everything was set for the quiet evening he’d promised her.

He gave a short exhalation—time to take a breath, time to shelve the murders for at least one meal.He lifted the tray and walked into the living area, where Amelia Winters sat on a small love-seat, knees curled under her.Her red hair, loose and slightly windswept from the chilly air outside, caught the candlelight’s flicker.She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile.

“Wow,” she said softly, lips curving in warmth.“You went all out.”

Finn shrugged, setting the plates on the low coffee table before her.“We both needed a break,” he said.“Figure candlelight can’t hurt.”

She inhaled the scent of the sauce and gave him a grateful look.“Smells incredible.Thank you.”

They clinked their wine glasses lightly, and Amelia took her first bite.A small hum of satisfaction escaped her lips.“Mmm, perfect.You’re getting better at this.”

Finn grinned.“Who says I wasn’t always a good cook?I just never had the time to prove it.”

She smiled back, but the expression flickered with a kind of heaviness that told him her mind was still burdened.He settled onto the couch beside her, one arm over the back.They ate mostly in companionable silence at first, savoring a moment that felt downright normal—two people sharing a simple meal in the soft glow of dancing candlelight, the world’s horrors locked outside.

After a few minutes, Amelia set her fork down, swirling a bit of pasta on her plate without actually raising it to her mouth.Her gaze drifted.“I appreciate this, Finn.I really do.I needed something… normal.”

He angled his head, noticing the slight tremor in her voice.“Tough day with the task force?”

She made a small sound of agreement.“Tough, yes, but also… horrifying.”She lowered her voice.

“Wendell Reed left a note, hidden at a jewelers I'm convinced he did it on a security feed so we would see it.It pointed us to a train station, so we mobilized and arrived at exactly 2 pm And…” Her voice caught.

Finn reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder.“What happened?”he asked gently.

A shaky breath left her lips.“When we got there, we found a woman’s body—tied under the undercarriage of a train.”She pressed her eyes shut, as though the memory was still raw.“She was… mangled.It was horrible.I can’t… I can’t wrap my mind around someone who’d do that.”

Finn inhaled slowly, anger stirring in his chest.“God.Amelia, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice for a moment.Her eyes glistened with unspoken horror.“I just keep seeing her there, you know?And hearing Wendell’s name in my head.He’s taunting us, taunting me.Because I was the one who arrested him in the first place.Now he’s… continuing this campaign of terror.”

Finn set his plate aside on the table, leaning closer.“Is it definitely Wendell’s doing?”

She let out a soft, humorless laugh.“He left that note for me.If we hadn’t shown up, the train would have pulled away with her body still strapped under it.It’s all so twisted.”

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