I reached the hotel twenty minutes later.

Every instinct told me not to go upstairs.

Another part of me had waited three years for exactly this impossible moment.

I took the elevator to the eighth floor.

Room 814 stood at the end of the hallway.

I raised my hand.

Before I could knock, the door opened.

Grant stood there.

For three years, I had imagined seeing him again.

In some versions, I screamed.

In others, I hit him.

Sometimes I collapsed into his arms.

I did none of those things.

I simply stared.

He looked older.

There was gray at his temples.

A thin scar crossed his jaw that hadn't been there before.

He had lost weight.

But his eyes were the same.

“Mara said you might come.”

His voice nearly broke me.

I walked into the room.

He closed the door.

We stood six feet apart.

“Say my name.”

He looked confused.

“Laura.”

I swallowed.

“Again.”

“Laura.”

Tears burned my eyes.

“Now say his.”

Grant knew exactly what I meant.

“Miles.”

I slapped him.

The sound cracked across the room.

Grant didn't move.

I slapped him again.

Still nothing.

“You let him believe you were dead.”

“I know.”

“He begged me to keep searching.”

“I know.”

“He thought you left because he did something wrong.”

Grant's face collapsed.

“I know.”

“No, you don't.”

I shoved both hands against his chest.

“You weren't there.”

He let me push him.

“You weren't there when he stopped sleeping.”

Another shove.

“You weren't there when he asked me if drowning hurts.”

Another.

“You weren't there when he turned eight.”

My voice broke.

“Nine.”

Grant's eyes filled.

“Ten.”

He looked down.

“I was there.”

I froze.

“What?”

“Not close.”

He wiped his face.

“But I watched.”

My stomach twisted.

“Explain.”

“I came back twice.”

“When?”

“His eighth birthday.”

I stared at him.

“I was across the street.”

My knees nearly gave out.

“The blue sedan.”

Grant closed his eyes.

I remembered it.

A blue sedan had sat near the corner for almost an hour.

I had noticed because the driver never got out.

“And his ninth birthday?”

“Baseball field.”

I remembered a man standing beyond the fence wearing a cap.

I had never seen his face.

I grabbed the edge of a chair.

“You watched your son and didn't walk over?”

Grant's voice became almost inaudible.

“Two men were watching me.”

That stopped me.

“They wanted to know if I would contact you.”

“So you were bait.”

“Yes.”

“And you still came.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed to see him.”

The pain in his face was real.

That made everything worse.

I pointed toward the door.

“You don't get to use love as an excuse.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying that.”

He nodded.

I forced myself to breathe.

“Who is Daniel?”

“An identity Vale gave me.”

“Evan Cole?”

Grant went still.

“Mara told you.”

“She told me enough.”

He sat down.

For the first time, he looked afraid of me.

“Laura, there is more.”

I almost laughed.

“Of course there is.”

Grant reached into his bag.

He removed a small black flash drive.

“This is why I stayed gone.”

I looked at it.

“What is it?”

“Enough evidence to destroy Conrad Vale.”

He paused.

“And enough evidence to prove someone we trusted helped him find me.”