Chapter 10

I paced, the Airbnb's unfamiliar patterned rug scratching the soles of my feet. Three steps forward, pivot, and three steps back. My jaw clenched with each turn, a metronome of frustration. The room was too small, or maybe it was just me feeling too large, too full of restless energy that demanded action.

I stopped mid-stride, glaring at the phone on the coffee-stained table. It mocked me with its silent, static black screen. Enough. I snatched it up, the device cold and unyielding in my palm. The screen lit up to my touch, fingers punching it with a rapid-fire tap-tap-tap. Matt's number. His name blinked on the display, a beacon in the dimly lit room.

"Come on," I muttered under my breath, the phone pressed against my ear, the ringing tone echoing like a siren in the dense silence. Each ring twisted my gut tighter, a coiled spring waiting to snap.

He picked up.

"Hey, Matt. How are the kids?" My voice wavered between the lines, betraying a mother's longing disguised as casual inquiry.

"Good, Eva. Christine didn't make it to school today, but there's always tomorrow," Matt's words floated through the phone, his tone even, carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness that created a subtle barrier between us.

"How's Alex? Is he still on track for team captain?"

"Tryouts went well. He's optimistic." His responses were succinct and steady—like droplets in a leak, not quite enough to quench my thirst for connection.

"And Angel?" I pressed, my heart squeezing with each word, picturing her tiny hands and bright eyes, worlds away from this sterile room.

"Angel's… she's missing you. Keeps asking when Mommy's coming home." The distance in Matt's voice seemed to shrink for a moment, a shared ache bridging the miles.

"Hey, how's the case coming along?" Matt finally shifted the topic, his voice carrying the weight of both curiosity and concern.

I exhaled, feeling the pressure in my chest release. "It's… complicated," I began, pacing again, my footsteps tapping a rhythm on the wooden floor. "There's an innocent man sitting in a cell, and every second counts."

"Sounds serious," he said, the rustle of fabric hinting he'd leaned forward, engaged despite himself.

"More than you know. The evidence is confidential; all I know is that it's a witness statement, but without the case files, I'm chasing shadows." My fingers traced the grain of the dining table, my mind racing. "I need those files, Matt. Do you think that you…?"

"No, Eva Rae. Absolutely not."

"You're the only one I know who can access them quickly enough."

"No, Eva Rae?—"

"Please. I don't have enough time," I cut him off before he could articulate the risks he would be taking, the urgency leaving no room for doubt. "This man's lifeand his future hang in the balance. And we both know what's at stake here."

There was a pause on the line, and when he spoke, his words came out slow, weighted.

"Eva Rae, this could blow up in our faces. My job?—"

"Your job can't be more important than an innocent man's life." I shot back, halting mid-pace to lean against the wall, feeling the cool paint against my forehead.

"Of course, it isn't, but—" His voice cracked with conflict, "I just got this desk position, Eva. I love it. Finally, I found something I can do and love to do. After everything… I can't afford to lose it."

"Matt, remember why we do this?" I urged, my plea slicing through the silence that followed his words. "For the people with no one else to fight for them."

"I know, I do, but?—"

"No 'buts,' Matt. This is who we are. Who you are." The intensity in my voice rose like a tide as I pushed off the wall, striding back into motion. "A lifeline for those sinking in a sea rigged against them."

"Damn it, Eva Rae…."

He let out a long sigh, and I could almost see him running a hand through his sandy blond hair, the gesture of frustration so uniquely his.

"Think of Angel," I said softly, invoking our daughter's name—a name that symbolized our bond, our shared ideals. "We're shaping the world she inherits. What if, one day, she looks up at us and asks what we did when we had the power to make a difference?"

His silence was telling. It stretched out, filled only by the sound of my own breaths, quick and shallow.

"Okay," he finally murmured, the word laced with resignation and the unmistakable undercurrent of the courage I knew so well. "Okay, Eva Rae. I'll do it. But you'll owe me."

"Thank you," I whispered, relief flooding through me as I ended the call, my fingers trembling slightly as they brushed over the phone screen. It was a small victory in a larger battle, and with Matt now alongside me, the odds just might have tipped in our favor.

At least, I hoped so.