“It’s fine,” I said. “I can get you in.”
She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”
Something settled in my chest. Something I didn’t have time to unpack. The shift ended early, like we’d planned. Everyone scattered to change, to shower, to get ready for the drive. Claire lingered behind, sitting at one of the picnic tables with her laptop open, already back in research mode. Dedicated didn’t even begin to cover it.
I headed out to meet my coach, the familiar rhythm of fight-day prep taking over. Wraps. Check weight. Hydrate. Visualize. My body moved through the motions easily, but my mind kept drifting back to her. To the way she watched the orchard like she was cataloging it. To the way she listened. To the firelight catching in her eyes. To the fact that I was breaking my own rules just by thinking this much about her. Don’t get involved with employees. Don’t mix work with distraction. Don’t invitetrouble closer than it already is. Claire wasn’t just good looks, though, and that was the problem. She was kind in quiet ways. A hard worker who didn’t complain. Smart without being condescending. Funny when she relaxed. And stubborn as hell when it came to finding justice for someone she loved. That kind of dedication didn’t fade. I had to stop thinking about her. I had a fight to prepare for and money to win. That was the whole point of these fights get in, get paid, and move on. I just hoped having Claire there wouldn’t be a distraction, because she was already on my mind more than she should’ve been.
CHAPTER 9
Claire
The cabin was quiet in the way only isolated places ever were. Just the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant rustle of wind moving through the orchard. I sat cross-legged on my bed, laptop open in front of me, notes spread out around it like a puzzle missing too many pieces.
I’d showered already, changed into leggings and a soft sweater, my hair was still damp at the ends. My body was tired from the day’s work, but my mind refused to slow. Val-du-Lys filled my screen. Old articles. Court summaries. Archived local reports. Names that kept circling back to the same few families. The same few roads. The same silences. Marcel Bellerose. Charges. Appeals. Dismissals. From a criminology standpoint, it was baffling. From a human one, it wasn’t.
A knock sounded at the door. I startled, my heart jumping before logic caught up. When I opened it, Harmony stood there. She looked different outside the bakery, less polished, more real. She was wearing blue jeans, a butter yellow sweater and she had her hair pulled back loosely. She smiled, but there was hesitation in it.
“I hope this isn’t strange,” she said.
“No,” I said quickly, stepping aside. “Not at all. Come in.”
She took in the small space before sitting on the edge of the chair by the table, hands folded in her lap.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said, surprising me.
I blinked. “Really?”
She nodded. “All week. Ever since Asher mentioned your friend.”
Something in my chest tightened. “Oh, um, well, he’s stubborn, he wanted to know why I chose to work here,” I explained.
“All the Thorne brothers are stubborn, but in a good way,” she said gently. “Asher means well. They are also very protective. It comes as natural as breath for them.”
“That’s good to know,” I replied, a little uneasy about where this talk was going.
“Once I heard what happened… I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she confessed. She paused, then added quietly, “My mom was killed. And I never really got answers either.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re studying criminology,” Harmony continued. “And I figured… if anyone would understand why that kind of not-knowing stays with you, it’d be you.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t go away.”
She looked at my laptop, then back at me. “Have you looked into my father’s case?”
“I have,” I admitted. “In depth.”
Her mouth tightened, not in anger. In recognition.
“So, what do you think? It’s crazy that he got off on all charges,” she said. I knew she had tried to put him away and failed.
“Professionally,” I said carefully, “it’s one of the most implausible legal collapses I’ve ever seen. That level of organization doesn’t just evaporate.”
Harmony let out a breath. “It didn’t he probably bribed some people on the inside.”
The word hung between us. I hesitated, then said the thing I’d been circling since the moment she walked in. “Can I ask you about someone?”
Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. “Who?”