One conversation didn’t heal years of hurt, but Dad wouldn’t want me to push her away. He’d want me to wrap my arms around her and forgive her.

To reestablish the bond we’d once shared.

Taking a deep breath, I reached across the table, placing my hand over hers. “Maybe we can start over, Mom,” I said. “With a fresh slate.”

My mom’s lower lip quivered. “I’d love that, Luna.” Her voice was thick with emotion, bridging the years of distance with those simple words.

I smiled, and took a sip of my coffee, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

“Maybe after we eat, I can take you back to my place. I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend.”

It felt like everything was falling into place.

Today, Hunter would spend time with my mom. Tomorrow, we were meeting with Sean.

I could only hopethatmeeting would go as well as this one had…

CHAPTER77

Luna

“Ido not want to do this,” Hunter groaned.

“He doesn’t suspect you anymore,” I assured.

After hearing about Stanley Weiss’s suicide—a manner of death confirmed by a top-notch medical examiner and corroborated with letters Stanley had mailed to relatives the daybeforehe died—Sean reasoned Hunter couldn’t be the Windy City Vigilante, because if Hunter was the Vigilante, he would have killed Stanley himself.

He’d been right there, facing his father’s killer.

Hunter had admitted to talking to Stanley that day about the missing money from all those years ago but had left before the gunshot sounded.

His alibi had been backed up by eyewitnesses—neighbors who had seen Hunter outside when the shot went off.

Sean’s suspicions of Hunter were severely reduced after that.

Ironic, by the way, that Hunter’s ultimate choice of letting Stanley live probably saved him from prison.

While Sean’s suspicions hadn’t been completely eliminated with that alone, the Vigilante’s vehicle mysteriously turned up in downtown Chicago, wiped clean and the inside bleached. Nowhere near Hunter’s home or any location he’d ever been to, and in reviewing surveillance footage from the courthouse killing, it was again confirmed that the Vigilante was at least twenty pounds heavier and three inches taller than Hunter Lockwood.

So, there went Sean’s lingering doubts about Hunter.

Rinaldi—whose hunt for Franco Hopkins had gone cold—was still mildly suspicious of Hunter, but there was no other evidence to turn over, and she had other cases taking priority now that the Vigilante hadn’t attacked in a while.

Reporters were having a field day with that—wondering if the Windy City Vigilante had been killed or was in prison. Or if he was lying in wait.

Mayor Kepler convinced the public that the Vigilante had likely been driven out of town due to the pressure he had put on him. And he pivoted his reelection campaign to take credit for solving the murder of Hunter’s father.

We knew he had nothing to do with solving it, but his constituents didn’t, and he was reelected.

Meanwhile, Sean’s interest in solvingwhothe Windy City Vigilante was had dwindled, in part, because he no longer suspected it was someone close to me. That, and because Hunter Lockwood had agreed to talk about his dad’s murder for Sean’s podcast.

The first public interview he’d ever given on the subject.

“I thought you said this wasn’t too painful?” I asked. “If it is…”

“It’s not that,” Hunter said, tugging his tie’s knot. He glowered across the room. “It’shim. I still want to punch him in his jaw.”

I cocked my head.