Isabel stood in the middle of the living room, her eyes roaming over the boxes stacked near the wall. Half of them had never been unpacked. The rest sat open, filled with clothes, books, and pieces of a life that had never quite found a place here.
She let out a slow breath and gave a small, bitter laugh. “Guess I knew I wasn’t staying long,” she murmured to no one.
Phoenix Ridge had been meant to be a new start—a clean slate. A smaller city, quieter cases, fewer politics. She’d thought maybe she could find some peace here. Instead, she’d found chaos, corruption, and the one woman who could undo her with a single look.
Now she was leaving again. Just another badge turned in, another city in the rearview mirror.
She knelt beside one of the boxes and started packing. Methodically. Jeans. Sweaters. Her worn leather jacket foldedwith care. The familiar motions steadied her hands even as her thoughts churned.
Why had I even wanted this job?
She’d asked herself that question more times than she could count. She wanted to believe it had always been about helping people, protecting the innocent, being the kind of cop her mother could be proud of. But when she thought about the moments that had truly mattered—the ones that made her pulse race and her mind sharpen—it wasn’t the arrests or the rescues that came to mind.
It was thepuzzle.
The digging. The unraveling of something hidden until the truth stood bare and undeniable. The mystery. The hunt. That was what had always driven her, even when she pretended otherwise.
She sat back on her heels, staring at the half-packed box in front of her. “So maybe I’m not the hero I thought I was,” she whispered. “Maybe I just love the chase.”
The words didn’t feel cruel. Just honest.
For the first time since she’d handed in her resignation, something like peace began to settle in her chest. Maybe this was her chance to find a new way to use that part of herself—to dig for truth without the badge. The world felt…wide open. Terrifying, but open.
Still, as she taped one box shut, a sharp ache bloomed behind her ribs.
Leaving felt wrong.
She’d grown to love Phoenix Ridge—the cliffs, the harbor, the sense of community that felt almost unreal. The way the air smelled like salt and rain. The way Lavender’s always smelled like espresso and laughter.
And the way Victoria’s voice sounded in the morning when she forgot to be the captain for five whole minutes.
Isabel froze, a folded shirt still in her hands.
She’d known for a while, of course. The way her heart lifted when Victoria smiled, the way her chest tightened when she saw her hurt. But admitting it, even to herself, felt like stepping off a cliff.
She was in love with Victoria.
Completely. Stupidly. Irrevocably.
And that was exactly why she couldn’t stay.
She couldn’t handle seeing Victoria at the precinct, or at Lavender’s, or walking the damned boardwalk as if nothing had happened. She couldn’t pretend she was fine when every fiber of her was still tangled up in that woman.
So, she kept packing.
Clothes, toiletries, the framed photo of her mother that had sat by her bed in every apartment she’d ever had.
By the time she got to her duffel bag, the room already looked emptier. The sight of it made her chest ache in a way she couldn’t name.
She reached for another stack of books when she heard it—three quiet knocks at the door.
Her body went still.
She didn’t move right away. The knock came again, softer this time.
Her pulse started to race. She already knew who it was. Somehow, she justknew.
When she finally opened the door, Victoria stood there—still in uniform, her hair pulled back, her eyes tired but steady.
