“Oh. Jackson, tell her I’m so sorry to hear that.” Charlotte could feel Alex watching her. She didn’t look at him. If she did, she’d start thinking about the Polaroid again. About who left it. About why. And she wasn’t going to do that right now.
She took a deep breath, pushing the fear aside. Because Olivia and Jackson were here, and this was their moment. And for now, she was just Charlotte Everhart—mother of the bride.
Charlotte barely rememberedthe rest of the wedding discussion. She went through the motions, nodding at the right times, offering input when needed—but her mind was elsewhere.
She kept thinking about the Polaroid. The footprints. Bailey being drugged. The biggest draw on her brain was the fact that someone had been in her home, standing over her while she slept.
Alex hadn’t left yet. After pouring a mug of coffee, he sat back in his chair, watching her. He wasn’t pushing, but she knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn’t letting it go.
She was grateful Olivia had let things go, though it took her three times. Charlotte managed to get her daughter talking about catering options.
By the time Olivia and Jackson got ready to leave, Charlotte felt like she could finally breathe again. She walked them to the door, offering a rare smile when Jackson kissed her cheek.
“We’ll call you later,” Olivia said, glancing between her and Alex. There was something curious in her eyes, but she didn’t press.
Charlotte turned back to find Alex standing again, arms crossed, waiting. She sighed. "You’re not leaving, are you?"
"Nope."
She ran a hand down her face. "Alex…"
"You’re shaken, Charlotte," he said, voice quiet but firm. "I’ve never seen you like this. And before you try to tell me you’re fine, I already know you’re not."
Charlotte held his gaze. There was no use arguing. Not with Alex.
She moved back to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to force her thoughts into something logical. “I should have awakened."
Alex sat across from her. "You didn’t. That’s not normal for you."
“I don’t think I was drugged.”
“We had dinner together. We ate the same food. Did you eat or drink anything after I left?” Alex frowned. “I’d like you to talk to Tristan—let him draw some blood.”
“No, and NO TRISTAN. I’m not letting my future son-in-law run tests on me.” She raised her voice. "I checked everything.”
Alex’s fingers drummed against the table. "Someone was inside the house before we locked up. They were waiting."
The idea made her stomach churn. She wasn’t the kind of woman who missed things. She had spent her entire life making sure she was one step ahead of everyone else. And yet, somehow, someone had gotten close enough to leave a message.
Alex reached in the drawer for the Polaroid again, flipping it along its edges. "This case… the man in the photo. It was your arrest?"
Charlotte hesitated. She had told herself she wouldn’t lie. But the truth? She still wasn’t sure if she was ready to say it out loud.
Alex exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I need you to let me in, Charlotte."
He wasn’t just talking about the case anymore. Charlotte looked at him—really looked at him.
Alex, since the moment they met, had always been steady, always been the one person in her life who never pushed too hard, never made her feel like she had to be anything other than herself. But now? Now she could see the cracks. He had spent so much time waiting for her. He wouldn’t wait forever.
She swallowed. "I…" Before she could finish, the house phone rang. She frowned. No one ever called the landline.
Alex grabbed it before she could, pressing it to his ear. "Hello?" Silence.
He went rigid as Charlotte’s blood turned to ice.
His grip tightened around the phone. "Who is this?"
The dial tone rang loud in the silence. Alex frowned. “A disjointed male voice. He wanted to know if you told me yet.”
