I felt Jackson's eyes on us from across the room. Ivy stood beside my mother's bed, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Grayson pulled back gently, his hands resting on my shoulders. "I'll give you some space. I want to get back toMeredith, but we'll be back soon—unless the transfer happens first. Jackson will keep you updated."
He gave Mom a soft smile, nodded at Ivy, and then he was gone, leaving behind a vacuum of emotion that threatened to pull me under.
Ivy, my mom, and me all exchanged stunned looks, and then, the three of us just... cried.
Ivy's arms wrapped around Mom from one side, mine from the other. We held her like we could keep her here longer if we just didn't let go. The beeping of the monitors provided a steady rhythm to our tears, a mechanical heartbeat counting precious seconds.
"I can't believe this is happening," Mom whispered, her voice thin but tinged with wonder. "After all these years..."
I stroked her hair, unable to form words. What could I say? There were no words for this moment.
We stayed like that until Mom's eyelids started to droop, the emotional exhaustion taking its toll on her weakened body.
Jackson stepped in quietly from where he'd been standing guard by the door, his voice low. "They're prepping for the transfer tonight. Ironstone's ready."
I nodded, numb and grateful and terrified all at once. The world had tilted on its axis, and I was still struggling to find my footing.
"You should get some air," Mom murmured, patting my hand. "I'm just going to rest until they come."
I kissed her forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of her—hospital antiseptic couldn't quite mask the honey lotion she'd used for as long as I could remember. "I'll be back soon."
We needed food. Air. Something normal to anchor us in this surreal new reality.
So we went to a little diner down the street, the kind with cracked vinyl booths and the smell of burnt coffee. The normalcyof it was jarring after everything that had happened. People eating, laughing, living their ordinary lives while mine had been completely upended.
Outside, the rain doused the town, refreshing it. Washing away so much pain and heartache.
I stirred my soup without tasting it, watching the vegetables swirl in the broth. My mind was a tangle of questions and emotions I couldn't begin to sort through.
"Did Brent get caught up in all this?" I asked Jackson finally, one old thought pushing through. I needed to close that loop. The PI had been my first step into this world, and I suddenly needed to know he hadn't become collateral damage.
Jackson leaned back, arms crossed over his broad chest. The movement pulled his shirt tight across his shoulders, highlighting the strength there. "We looked for him. Took a while, but he's safe. He was scared shitless, thought he'd end up in a ditch. But he's going home."
Ivy snorted, stirring her coffee with more force than necessary. "Can't blame him. This whole thing's been a damn mafia soap opera." She looked up at me, her eyes serious despite her flippant tone. "You okay with all this, Lena? It's a lot to process."
I stared down at my soup, watching the steam rise. "I don't know what I am right now. Everything I thought I knew..." I trailed off, unable to articulate the seismic shift happening inside me.
We all went quiet after that. The silence wasn't awkward—it was heavy. Like we were all carrying something we didn't know how to put down. The clatter of dishes and murmur of conversation around us felt distant, as if we existed in our own bubble of aftermath.
After lunch, when the rain had stopped, Ivy said she wanted to walk around town, see some old faces. I wanted to go somewhere quiet instead.
"You sure?" she asked. "I can stick around if you need me."
I shook my head. "I think I just need to be alone for a bit. But go. Have fun."
She hesitated, eyes searching mine, but I gave her a small smile. "I'll call when it's time to head to the hospital."
She squeezed my hand before leaving, the gesture saying everything words couldn't.
Jackson waited until Ivy was gone before asking, "Is there anywhere quiet around here you like?"
I looked at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice. His dark eyes were soft, the hardness that usually defined him momentarily absent.
"Yeah," I said. "Will you join me for a drive?"
We ended up at the pond.
