Victoria emerged from the kitchen with two mugs, setting one in front of her. “You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did you,” Isabel said.
They shared a tired, knowing glance—half a smile, half a surrender.
Victoria sat beside her, legs brushing lightly. The warmth between them was easy now, comfortable, but underneath it ran the edge of purpose.
“We need to talk about today,” Victoria said.
Isabel arched a brow. “Yeah, I figured. You want to tell the commissioner before we go after Darcy?”
“Not yet. If we show our hand too early, Darcy will bolt. She’s too smart to stay once she realizes she’s burned.”
“So, we play it cool,” Isabel said, leaning back, crossing her arms. “Go in as if nothing’s changed.”
“Exactly,” Victoria said. “We need to make it look like we’re still at odds. That way, Darcy won’t suspect we’ve compared notes.”
A dry laugh escaped Isabel. “So basically, we go back to pretending to hate each other. Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ve had enough practice.”
Victoria’s lips twitched, just barely. “You were insubordinate.”
“You were impossible,” Isabel countered, the teasing note in her voice softening the jab.
For the first time in days, Victoria let out a quiet chuckle. “We stagger our arrivals. I’ll come in first, make a show of being irritated. You go in later, avoiding my office. If anyone asks, we had another fight.”
“Want me to throw something for effect?” Isabel asked.
“Preferably not.”
“Shame,” Isabel muttered, grinning faintly into her coffee.
Victoria shook her head, but there was warmth in the gesture. Then her tone turned serious again. “Keep your distance from Darcy as much as possible. If she approaches you, stay calm. Don’t let her see you rattled.”
Isabel nodded. “Got it. And you?”
“I’ll keep her occupied,” Victoria said. “She’s still trying to earn back my confidence. I can use that.”
“Careful, Vic,” Isabel said softly. “You may be the only person she’s still trying to fool.”
Victoria looked down at her mug, the steam curling up between them. “Then let’s make sure she never gets another chance.”
For a moment, silence filled the space again—comfortable but weighted. Isabel reached out and brushed her fingers against Victoria’s hand. “We’ll get her,” she said. “We’ll get Lily back, too.”
Victoria’s gaze met hers, steady and sure. “I know.”
They sat that way for a long moment, the early light painting the room in pale gold. Two women who had nearly lost each other, now bound by purpose, trust, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, they would face it together.
Finally, Isabel stood, finishing her coffee. “I guess I’ll take the long way to work. Let people think I’m avoiding you.”
Victoria smirked faintly. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Maybe a little,” Isabel admitted. She reached for her jacket, hesitating at the door. “See you at the precinct, Captain.”
Victoria’s voice softened. “Be careful, Detective.”
Isabel gave a small nod and slipped out into the morning light, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Victoria lingered a moment longer, staring at the empty doorway. Then she straightened, squared her shoulders, and set her mug in the sink.
