Several moments pass by and neither of us says a word. My hand rubs her back lightly while each of us is lost in thought. “I’ve never gotten closure,” she says just above a whisper. “I think that’s why it’s been so hard to move on. I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to let go of the pain and anger. It probably sounds ridiculous since it was so early in the pregnancy, but I was already attached and thinking of what it’d be like to be a mother.”

Mother.

I don’t miss how that word breaks as it leaves her mouth. Knowing how much she’s wanted kids only for it to be stolen from her in the most vicious way has the hate that’s festering beneath the surface growing at an exponential rate. I take a deep breath, clear my mind, and get control over my emotions. For Elizabeth, I’ll push it all back and be here for her.

“It’s not ridiculous. I was crushed when you told me. I still am. I thought about all the things I wouldn’t get to do and wanted to literally kill someone. But, like you said, we’ll get through it together. Will the pain ever go away? Probably not, but I’ll always be here for you to talk, cry, vent, whatever you need to get through it.”

“Yeah, together,” she murmurs. “Thank you,” she says sleepily. The emotions from the day have taken their toll on her and soon after she’s fast asleep on my chest.

The next morning I woke up and left a note for Elizabeth in case she got up before I made it back. There’s no way I’ll be able to heal her right away, but I want to help. Elizabeth thinks her problem is that she didn’t get closure, so maybe I can give her a little today.

Parking outside the hotel room, I get out of the car and walk to the door. Opening it slowly, I peek in and see her sitting up in bed, eyes glued to the television. “Hey,” I greet her.

“Oh my God, have you seen this?” She doesn’t turn away from whatever she’s watching when she asks. I focus in on the screen and instantly want to punch something.

“And the top story tonight is of the missing wife of Senator Callahan Fitzgerald. As you probably know, Senator Fitzgerald is in the race to become the next President of the United States. His wife, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, pictured here, was last seen in her home—” I walk up to the television and turn it off.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“We don’t need to watch that shit.” Mainly, I don’t want her to worry more than she already is.

“But did you see that? It’s on national news, Alex!” She’s starting to panic. I see it in her wide eyes and loud voice.

“Relax, sweetheart. We’re out in the middle of nowhere and we’ll make sure to keep a low profile. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

She searches my features, seeming to decide if she believes me or not. Really, what choice does she have? There’s no going back so we have to keep pushing forward.

“I want to show you something. Will you come with me?” I hold my hand out to her. She stands with a curious look on her face and grabs my hand. We walk to the car where I need to get the two things I left in there.

“Yesterday you said you never got closure. I’m not sure if this will help, but I thought of a little way we can say good-bye.” I glance at her nervously. I’m not sure how she’ll take this. Tears fill her eyes and I hope I’m doing the right thing and not causing her more agony.

Reaching into my car, I pull out two balloons. One pink, one blue. “I know this doesn’t make everything better. I know there will be good days and bad days, but I’m hoping this can mark the beginning of our good days. Let’s go over here.” I point to a spot behind the hotel that has an open field. We walk quietly hand in hand. I can tell she’s not really understanding what’s going on. Once we get out toward the middle, I stop and turn to her.

“I thought we could release these balloons—one for me and one for you—as a tribute to our baby. A way to say good-bye.” Her hands go to her mouth and tears run down her cheeks. Just as I’m realizing that I’m the biggest fucking asshole in the world, she speaks up.

“I think it’s perfect,” she chokes out. Swallowing hard, she reaches her hand out for the pink balloon. “I don’t know why, but after I got over the shock of finding out I was pregnant, I always felt like it was a girl.” She tries to smile, but the quivering of her lips betrays the hurt she feels talking about it.

“You were probably right. On the count of three, okay?” She nods, staring into my eyes. In that moment, I see it. The strength, the life, the love that lives within her shows itself for the briefest of moments as she tries to find peace in the tragedy. “One . . . two . . . three.” We let go of the balloons together and watch them fly into the clear, blue sky.

She watches the balloons for a minute before she says, “Sometimes I wonder what she would’ve looked like, what she would’ve been when she grew up. There are nights I dream of a little girl running around, giggling as I chase her, but I can never see her face.”

“She would’ve been beautiful. She’d have your beautiful green eyes, your long, brown hair, my charm and wit.” She nudges me with her elbow. “And now she’s our little angel watching over us. We’ll see her again one day.”

She takes in a cleansing breath with her eyes closed. “Yeah, we’ll see her someday.”

Her hand wraps around my bicep and she holds on tight. I place my opposite hand over hers letting her know that I’m with her every step of the way. She’ll never have to battle anything on her own again. My hope is that this will start the mending process. She’ll bare the emotional scars of this, and I’ll love each and every one.

IT’S BEEN THREE days since we released the balloons, and to my frustration, there hasn’t been a whole lot going on. I want to throttle Turner for his lack of progress with this damn case. I get that they want this to be air tight so Cal can’t weasel his way out of it, but that doesn’t make me any less anxious. I’ve been keeping tabs on the news while Elizabeth showers. So far, I haven’t seen anything pop up about the two cartel guys I killed in the cabin. Looks like Turner was able to bury the story. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about Elizabeth. Every news source is covering her “kidnapping,” which only adds to my stress. Making sure she’s occupied has been my primary objective to keep her from seeing all the coverage on her. I know she’s aware of it, but I’m going for the out of sight, out of mind approach.

I’ve noticed a very subtle change in Elizabeth. She confessed that she had been taking antidepressants, which is why she was so good at masking the hurt when she was around me. With us leaving her house so quickly, she wasn’t able to grab them. I don’t want her to suffer, but I’m glad she left them behind. Who knows when I would’ve found out the truth if she hadn’t broken down.

As for me, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it all. I’ve seen evil before when I was deployed and as an FBI agent, but nothing compares to this. Cal is evil to his core, infecting those around him like a virus. The virus festers and causes a deadly infection that almost killed her. The memory of Elizabeth swallowing all of those pills is still with me, reminding me just how deep he corrupted her soul.

“Hey, Turner,” I say into the phone. We switched hotels again today and I’m calling to see if there are any updates.

“Matthews, looks like your hunch was right. We went through his voting record and Cal was instrumental in blocking a few bills that would allow port authorities to search all ships coming in and out of the United States. If I had to bet on it, I’d say Henry Williams uses his shipping company to transport drugs in and out of the country.”