Chapter 13 - Justice for Liam
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By noon, the storm had blanketed the estate in eight inches of pristine, untouched white snow.
The police cruisers and crime scene technicians had finally departed, leaving behind a silence that felt entirely different from the heavy dread of the past two years.
Inside the study, a fresh fire roared in the hearth, crackling merrily as the sweet scent of cedarwood warmed the quiet room.
Brennan stood by the French doors, staring out at the snow-covered lawn where Liam used to train Atlas to fetch pinecones.
His shoulders, usually so rigid and guarded, had dropped several inches, as if an invisible mountain had finally been lifted from his back.
Holly sat on the hearthstone, a warm mug of cider cupped in her hands, watching the flames dance across the brickwork.
Atlas lay between them, fast asleep on his side, his four massive paws twitching softly as he chased rabbits in his dreams.
“The district attorney called twenty minutes ago,” Brennan said, turning away from the window to look at her.
“Marcus has already started talking to his lawyers about a plea agreement.”
“He admitted that he paid the driver who forced Liam off the bridge.”
Holly closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath that felt like the release of two years of unspoken tension.
“It’s really over,” she whispered.
“It’s over,” Brennan confirmed, walking over to the fireplace and sitting down on the raised stone beside her.
He reached down, his long fingers gently stroking Atlas’s velvet ear right where Holly had touched him the night before at table eleven.
“Liam’s name will be completely cleared in the evening news cycle,” Brennan added, his voice thick with an emotion he no longer tried to hide.
“The press had painted his death as a reckless driving accident for twenty-four months.”
“Tonight, the whole city will know he died an investigative hero who never backed down from the truth.”
Holly looked up at Brennan, seeing the faint sheen of tears in his gray eyes.
She reached out, her fingers closing gently over his wrist, feeling the steady, strong beat of his pulse beneath her thumb.
“He would be so proud of you, Brennan,” she said softly.
“He would be proud of you, Holly,” Brennan countered, turning his hand over to interlock his fingers with hers.
His grip was warm, solid, and fiercely tender.
“You took on the burden of a wounded animal when you had nothing to give.”
“You protected the truth without even knowing it existed.”
“And this morning, you stood on that porch between a loaded gun and a monster who could have crushed you with his wealth.”
Holly looked down at their joined hands, feeling an unfamiliar warmth bloom deep in her chest.
“I spent three years hiding in plain sight, Brennan,” she confessed quietly.
“After my mother passed away and the bills piled up, I thought the only way to survive was to make myself invisible.”
“I worked double shifts, kept my head down, and made sure no one ever looked at me long enough to notice I was drowning.”
Brennan leaned in closer, his thumb softly tracing the delicate bones of her hand.
May you like
“You are not invisible anymore, Holly Lawson,” he whispered, his gray eyes searching hers with an intensity that made the room spin.
“You are the brightest thing that has ever walked through my front door.”
