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Epilogue

Chopping. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board set a beat to my thoughts, each slice a reminder of the normalcy I craved.

"Dinner"s almost ready!" My voice carried over the sizzle of vegetables in the pan.

"I'm hungry now, Mom!" Alex shouted back without tearing his eyes from the screen where pixels danced in rapid-fire succession. His fingers moved over the controller, every tap and swipe as precise as the moves I made when disarming a situation—or a suspect. At least, I'd like to think so.

"I'm doing it as fast as I can," I called out, glancing at the clock.

"Look, Mommy!" Angel"s voice, bubbly with enthusiasm, pulled me away from the stove. She was on the floor, surrounded by a fortress of multicolored blocks, her small hands deftly placing the final piece on her makeshift castle. "It"s our house!"

"Beautiful, honey." I smiled, wiping my hands on the apron before kneeling beside her to admire the creation.

"Careful, don"t knock it over," I warned playfully as she beamed up at me, her pride as clear as the sky outside our window.

Alex let out a victorious cheer, snapping us back to his digital world. "Yes! Take that, bad guys!" He pumped a fist in the air.

"Your real-life hero is right here, you know," I said with a chuckle, standing up to stir the pot once more.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, already lost again in his game, chasing pixelated justice while I stood guard in reality, ensuring the villains we faced could never reach them here. I had faced Detective Ryan and gotten him to admit that he approached my son after school and wrote a threat on my living room wall. He also admitted to following us in his car that night when we went to the hotel. I had reported him, and he was immediately fired.

The simmering pot on the stove filled the kitchen with a hearty aroma, but it was the weight lifting from my shoulders that truly warmed the space. I leaned against the counter, a long-held breath escaping me. Monica had confessed to all three murders, and it still echoed in my mind, her words not just closing a case but locking away the nightmares that had haunted me. Her description of how she had tried to make them all look like suicides by placing the bodies afterward and putting a gun in their hand made a lot of sense. Only, at Steven's house, the gun had slid out of his hand, and the magazine had fallen out after she left. Sarah had arrived and picked it up, shocked at her discovery. The guns, Monica had bought illegally. It was easy for her to slide in and out of houses unseen, as no one found an old woman suspicious. Adam and Sarah were now together. They had decided to sell both their houses and try to move on together. Adam explained he had been scared when seeing another murder scene on his street. He worried that the police would arrest him because we had been so suspicious of him early in the investigation. That's why he packed and decided to leave. But then Sarah called him while he was staying at a motel where he spent the night, and he decided to go back. He wanted to help her, realizing that running away wasn't the solution.

"Mom, is food ready?" Angel"s voice pulled me back to the present, her eyes wide and curious.

"Almost, baby girl," I replied, stirring the stew with more vigor than necessary. The relief felt tangible like the steam rising from the bubbling broth. Each stir was a churn of emotions; every bubble breaking the surface was a tiny celebration. Monica behind bars meant safety and justice served, but most of all, it meant peace for those restless souls she"d wronged in her quest to punish those who had helped her son poison Victoria.

"Good. I"m starving!" she giggled, returning to her blocks, oblivious to the gravity of what had transpired. Her innocence was the purest form of happiness I knew, untainted by the darkness I faced daily.

"Mom, when"s dinner? I"m dying here!" Alex called out, his voice cracking in mock desperation from his virtual quest.

"Patience is a virtue, Agent Alex," I teased, glancing at the clock. "Ten more minutes."

"Okay… but I"m holding you to that," he bargained, eyes never leaving the screen.

A glint of sunset reflected off a car window outside. My hands stilled. The sound of an engine cutting out pricked my ears, and curiosity pulled me toward the window.

Matt emerged from the sedan, his tall frame unfolding from the car, a pair of crutches wedged under his arms. He paused, surveying the short trek to our front door with the calculating gaze of a detective scoping a crime scene. Then he took a steady step, leaning on his crutches, followed by another, the metal tips of his crutches clicking against the concrete with rhythmic certainty.

"Daddy!" Angel squealed, abandoning her fortress of colorful blocks to join us at the window.

"Let him concentrate, kids." I held up a hand, but pride swelled within me as I watched Matt navigate his way to us, each step a testament to his determination. His dark hair was tousled, likely from the frustration of rehabilitation exercises. Yet, there was an unmistakable lightness to his movements—a dance between man and crutches that spoke volumes of his progress.

"Look at him go, Mom," Alex breathed out, his usual jest replaced with awe.

"Like a superhero," Angel chimed in, her tiny hands pressed against the glass.

"Exactly," I agreed, my heart thrumming a rapid beat. "Our very own superhero."

"Should we help him with the stairs?" Alex asked, torn between the urge to rush out and the respect for Matt"s hard-won independence.

"No, let him do this," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

We were a silent cheer squad, watching Matt close the distance with unwavering resolve. Each click-clack of the crutches on the path and stairs was a drumbeat pushing away the ghosts of the pain we"d all endured. When his eyes finally met mine through the window, they sparkled with triumph. Then we all ran to the door.

I waved through the open doorway, catching Dan"s eye as he backed out of the driveway.

"Thank you!" My words hitched a ride on a gust of wind, hopeful they"d reach him. He nodded, his silhouette framed by the fading sunlight before the car disappeared around the corner.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hey, handsome. Good day?"

"Got some good news," he beamed, a boyish grin stretching across his face.

"Share with the class?" I teased, closing the distance between us.

"Prosthetic leg." His words were nearly tripping over each other. "Dan says I"m ready, that I"ll be walking on my own two feet sooner than we thought."

"Really?" I couldn"t help but feel the excitement bubbling in my chest.

"Really," he affirmed, his confidence infectious. Dan"s been talking to the specialist. They"re optimistic. They said I"ve got the grit for it."

"Of course you do." I reached out, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You"re unstoppable."

"Seems so." He chuckled, the sound wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

"Unstoppable," I echoed, allowing the word to fill the room and seep into the corners where doubt liked to linger. "That"s you."

"Guess I am a superhero, huh?" Matt jested, throwing a glance toward the kids.

"Superhero, indeed." My heart sang.

"I'm actually thinking of going back to work once I've gotten used to it."

"Work? You mean back to the force?" My voice hitched, a note of alarm threading through the question. The sight of him, so full of life and chatter about his new prosthetic, had been a beacon of hope. But this? This was an unforeseen gust, threatening to snuff it out.

"Of course, I mean work." He reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I"m not going to let this," he gestured to his crutches, "keep me from what I love."

"Matt…." The word was a soft exhale, a mother"s instinct clashing with the admiration for the man before me. His dedication was one of the things that drew me to him, but at what cost?

"Hey, I"ll be careful. Desk duty, promise." His thumb caressed the back of my hand, a soothing rhythm against my racing thoughts.

"Desk duty," I echoed, the words rolling off my tongue with skepticism as my mind conjured images of shootouts and narrow escapes—the very memories that haunted our dreams.

"Cross my heart." Matt"s smile was meant as reassurance, but it did little to silence the parade of what-ifs marching through my head.

"Okay." I managed a nod, though it felt like agreeing to let him waltz into a fire. My heart thrummed against my chest, a silent drumbeat of worry.

"Okay?" He searched my face, looking for the truth behind the acquiescence.

"Okay," I repeated, stronger this time. If I knew anything about Matt, it was that holding him back wasn"t an option. Not when it came to his calling. Not when it came to serving others. And I was happy to see him smile again.

"Thank you," he whispered, pulling me close. His scent, a mix of determination and aftershave, filled my senses.

"Stay safe," I murmured into his shoulder, allowing myself this one plea.

"Always." His lips pressed against my forehead in a kiss that spoke of promises and battles yet to come.

"Mom, I"m hungry!" Alex"s voice cut through my lingering concerns, his small frame dashing past us. Angel"s giggles followed, her tiny feet pattering on the hardwood floor as she went in pursuit of her brother.

"Table, guys," I called out, my voice steadier than my nerves felt. The clink of silverware and the shuffle of chairs filled the space, grounding me back to the present.

"Smells good, babe," Matt said, easing himself into his seat with practiced grace despite the crutches propped against the chair.

"Thanks." I placed the last dish on the table, a spread that spoke of normalcy and family routines that we fought so hard to maintain. Christine joined us without looking up from her phone as usual.

"Can I help?" Matt reached out, but I shook my head.

"Sit. You"ve done enough."

"Peas, please!" Angel's request was more of a song than a sentence. Her hands clapped together in delight as I obliged, spooning bright green orbs onto her plate.

"Did you win your game, champ?" Matt asked, turning toward Alex, who was already shoveling food into his mouth.

"Uh-huh! Beat the boss level!" he mumbled, bits of carrot escaping his lips.

"Awesome!" Matt"s enthusiasm matched Alex's, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was these moments, this effortless bond between them, that sometimes took my breath away. His son Elijah was still with his grandmother, and he was enjoying living there for now and had made a lot of friends in the area where Matt's mother lived, so we had decided to let him stay there for now on the condition that he came here and ate with us at least once a week. He, too, was growing up so fast.

"More peas, Mommy!" Angel chimed in again, oblivious to the weighty conversations that had come before her simple request.

"Of course, sweetheart." I smiled, serving her more, watching as she balanced one pea at a time on her fork with intense concentration.

"Looks like you"ve got competition, Matt. Our little lady here might just be the next sharpshooter in the family," I teased, glancing at him with an affection that mingled with my lingering worries.

"Hey, I"ll take a partner with such focus any day," he chuckled, winking at Angel, who beamed with pride.

"Let"s eat up," I encouraged, settling into my chair, the five of us enclosed in the warm light of the dining room, the scent of stew mingling with the lemony tang of freshly steamed vegetables.

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing against Matt"s. The roughness of his skin, marked by the ordeals he"d been through, was familiar and comforting in its resilience. I laced my fingers through his, feeling the strength that had once wielded a weapon with precision, now holding onto me with tenderness.

"Hey," I whispered, tugging gently at his hand.

He turned to me, a half-smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting the soft light that enveloped us.

"Hey, yourself," he replied, the timbre of his voice grounding me further into the moment.

Our kids" chatter became a distant hum as I leaned in closer, closing the space between us. His breath mingled with mine, a prelude to our lips meeting in a kiss that held the promise of new beginnings and unspoken oaths of love. It was soft yet certain, a silent language only we spoke.

Pulling back slightly, I stared into his eyes, finding an echo of my own happiness.

"We"ve come so far," I murmured, more to myself than to him.

"Thanks to you," he said, his voice hushed, filled with gratitude and awe.

"Us," I corrected, squeezing his hand, "we"re a team, remember?"

"Always," he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting higher.

Around us, the clinking of cutlery on plates and the murmur of contented conversation all wove together into the tapestry of family life. It was a melody I"d feared losing but now played stronger than ever.

"Mommy, look, I"m using chopsticks!" Alex exclaimed, brandishing his utensils with an exaggerated flourish, rice grains tumbling back onto his plate. He had a thing for anything Japanese lately: cartoons, food, and utensils, so I let him use chopsticks and practice whenever he wanted to.

"Wow, buddy, you"re becoming quite the pro," I said with a laugh, turning to share the moment with Matt.

"I wanna do that," Angel piped up, her face alight with the simple joy of being included in her brother"s adventures.

"Sure thing, Angie." Alex handed her the sticks and showed her how to hold them. He had come to enjoy his role as big brother, one he wore with pride, while Christine rolled her eyes at them. I had spoken earlier with Olivia, and she was still doing well at college. She said she was coming home the following weekend, and I couldn't wait to see her.

I sat back, my heart brimming over as I absorbed the scene before me: my children growing and thriving, my partner recovering and smiling, and the sense of peace that had seemed so elusive now cradling us gently. This was happiness, not just a fleeting emotion but a state of being woven through the fabric of our everyday lives.

"Family," I whispered, barely audible over the sound of our shared existence.

"Forever," Matt echoed, understanding without needing me to speak louder.

We finished our meal amid laughter and stories, each bite savored, and each glance exchanged a reminder of what we had overcome and what lay ahead. As the last plates were cleared and the children"s yawns grew longer, the contentment within me swelled. I was home, truly home, surrounded by love, lulled by security, and ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

THE END

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