Chapter 8: The Weight of Two Years
The phone stopped buzzing.
Then it started again.
Declan picked it up.
"Coast Guard contact is at the marina," Ronan said.
"They're asking whether to board."
Declan looked at Camille.
She was watching him with the photograph still on the table between them, her hands very still.
"Tell them to stand down," Declan said.
"I'll call you back."
He ended the call.
Camille's eyes moved to the phone, then back to him.
"You could have let them board."
"I know."
"Why didn't you."
He looked at the photograph of the child.
The small monitor on her finger.
The dark hair that was exactly Camille's.
"Because I want to understand something first," he said.
"The transfer document.
The forged signature.
The shell company." He leaned forward slightly.
"You had enough to disappear cleanly.
You didn't need to forge my signature.
You could have taken only what was clearly yours and left a smaller trail."
Camille was quiet.
"You made sure I would find it eventually," he said.
"The open safe.
The document left behind.
You left me a thread." He looked at her.
"Why."
A long pause.
"Because I wanted you to know it was me," she said finally.
"Not a rival.
Not a betrayal from outside.
Me." She looked down at the photograph.
"I spent twelve years invisible inside your fortress.
I wanted one person to know that I was capable of this.
That I had planned it.
That I had executed it." She paused.
"Even if that person was you."
Declan sat with that.
"Tessa," he said.
Camille looked up.
"The maid.
She's been watching you for six weeks.
She's the one who told me." He paused.
"She was terrified of what you'd do to her if you found out she'd seen you."
Something crossed Camille's face.
"I would never have hurt her."
"She didn't know that."
"No." A pause.
"She doesn't know anything about me." Camille looked at the window, at the dark water beyond the glass.
"She just saw a woman getting out of a bed."
"She saw enough to stop you leaving without me knowing." Declan looked at her.
"She put herself at risk to tell me.
She has nothing.
No protection.
No connections.
She did it because she thought it was right."
Camille said nothing for a moment.
Then: "What do you want, Declan."
He stood up.
He walked to the window and looked out at the pier lights, the black water, the city behind it.
"I want the men Marcus lost to have their names said out loud," he said.
"I want their families to receive something from me, directly, with no explanation required." He turned.
"I want Aris to lose his medical license.
I won't pursue criminal charges — but he is done practicing medicine.
That is not negotiable."
Camille nodded once.
"I want the forged documents corrected.
Properly.
Through a lawyer who reports to neither of us." He picked up the transfer document from the table.
"And I want this one destroyed."
"And me," she said.
He looked at her.
"You take the boat," he said.
"You take what you've moved.
You take Nora and Dr.
Solís and you go wherever you planned to go." He paused.
"You do not contact me.
I do not contact you.
If Nora ever needs something that requires my name, you reach me through Ronan.
That is the only channel."
Camille looked at him for a long time.
"That's it," she said.
"That's it."
"No consequences.
No charges.
No—"
"Camille." His voice was quiet.
"I spent two years destroying people I believed had taken you from me.
I sat beside your bed and held your hand and read to you." He set the document down.
"The consequences are already here.
They have been here for two years.
I don't need to add to them."
Her eyes were very bright.
She did not look away.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For the men Marcus lost.
I am genuinely sorry for that."
"I know."
He picked up his phone.
He called Ronan.
"Stand the contact down," he said.
"Completely.
The boat leaves tonight."
"Declan—"
"Stand them down, Ronan."
A pause.
"Done."
He ended the call and looked at Camille one last time.
She was still seated at the chart table, the photograph of Nora in her hands, the laptop closed, the envelope folded.
She looked like a woman who had been holding her breath for two years and had just, quietly, exhaled.
"Take care of her," he said.
He walked out of the cabin and back along the pier without looking back.
The night air was cold and clean.
Behind him, the Solano's engine deepened.
He stood at the end of the pier and listened to it pull away from the dock.
When the sound faded, he called Tessa.
She answered on the second ring, her voice tight with fear.
"It's done," he said.
"You're safe.
Come to the study when you're ready.
I'll explain what I can."
A long silence.
Then: "Is she gone?"
"Yes."
Another silence.
"Are you all right?"
He looked at the water where the boat had been.
May you like
"Not yet," he said.
"But I will be."
