EPILOGUE

The morning sun cast a warm glow over Coldwater as Sheila stood on the steps of the police station, watching the last of the reporters drive away.

Well, that took forever, she thought, sighing.

The press conference had been grueling, but necessary. The town needed to know that the nightmare was over, that the Coldwater Confessor had been caught.

Sheila felt a presence beside her and turned to see Finn, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He offered her one, which she accepted gratefully.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Sheila took a sip of coffee before answering. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It doesn't feel real yet."

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the town slowly come to life. After days of fear and suspicion, people were finally emerging from their homes, tentatively reclaiming their streets and routines.

"You know," Finn said, breaking the silence, "I've been thinking about what Dawson said. About the department looking for a permanent replacement for Natalie."

Sheila tensed slightly at the mention of her sister's name. "What about it?"

Finn turned to face her, his expression serious. "I think you should go for it, Sheila. You'd make an amazing sheriff."

Sheila shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. "I'm not Natalie, Finn. I never have been."

"No, you're not," Finn agreed. "You're Sheila. And that's more than good enough. Look at how you handled this case. Your instincts, your determination—they're exactly what this town needs."

Sheila felt a lump forming in her throat. She turned away, blinking back unexpected tears. "I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility."

Finn's hand on her shoulder was warm and reassuring. "I think you are. And I think Natalie would be proud of you."

At the mention of her sister, the dam broke. Sheila felt the tears she'd been holding back for so long finally spill over. Finn pulled her into a hug, and she let herself be held, her body shaking with silent sobs.

When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she saw understanding in Finn's gaze. No judgment, no pity. Just acceptance and something else...something that made her heart race.

"No pressure," Finn added. "It's your life. I guess…I guess I just want you to know that I believe in you."

Sheila smiled and leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that felt like coming home.

When they finally parted, Sheila felt a newfound sense of purpose. "Maybe you're right," she said. "Maybe I am ready to be sheriff. But only if I have you by my side."

Finn grinned. "Always, partner. Always. Now…" He placed both hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. "I want you to do something very important for me."

"Okay…" Sheila said, drawing the word out.

"I want you to go home, shower, and get some sleep. You need it."

Sheila grunted. "Okay, but don't think this means you can give me orders. I might be your boss soon, after all."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Oh, boy. It's already getting to your head."

She smiled innocently. "It's your fault for suggesting the idea."

***

Sheila stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. The hot water had washed away some of the physical exhaustion, but it had done nothing to slow her feverish thoughts.

Finn's words echoed in her head as she dried her hair: You'd make an amazing sheriff.

She stared at her reflection in the foggy mirror. Could she really do it? Take on the responsibility of leading the entire department? The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As she walked into her bedroom, her eyes fell on a framed photo of Natalie on her dresser. Her sister's smile, frozen in time, seemed to offer encouragement. Sheila picked up the frame, running her thumb over the glass.

"What would you think, Nat?" she whispered. "Am I crazy for even considering this?"

A muffled thud from down the hall interrupted her thoughts. Sheila tensed for a moment before remembering: Star. The teenager she'd taken in was probably just rummaging around in her room.

Sheila sighed, setting down the photo. Star was another responsibility, another challenge she'd taken on. The girl had been through so much, and connecting with her was proving to be difficult. But Sheila was determined to help her, to give her the stability and support she desperately needed.

As she got dressed, Sheila's mind drifted to Finn again. Their relationship was progressing so quickly, and she felt an ease and familiarity with him that she hadn't expected to find with anyone. This was wonderful, but it also complicated things. If she became sheriff, would their personal relationship affect their professional one?

Sheila shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was overthinking everything. Right now, she needed sleep. She could worry about the future tomorrow.

Just as she was about to climb into bed, a soft knock came at her door.

"Sheila?" Star's voice was hesitant. "Are you awake?"

Sheila opened the door to find the teenager standing there, looking uncomfortable. "What's up, Star? Everything okay?"

Star shrugged, not meeting Sheila's eyes. "I just...I heard about what happened. With the Coldwater Confessor. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Sheila felt a warmth in her chest. This was the first time Star had reached out like this. "I'm okay, Star. Thank you for asking. It's been a long couple of days, but it's over now."

Star nodded, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "That's good. I'm glad you're safe." She paused, then added quickly, "Goodnight," before darting back to her room.

Sheila watched her go, a small smile on her face. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

Finally settling into bed, Sheila felt the exhaustion of the past few days washing over her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was just about to drift off when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Groaning, she reached for it, squinting at the bright screen. It was a message from dispatch, marked urgent. The message was brief, but it made Sheila's blood run cold:

Vehicle matching description of Eddie Mills' car spotted at gas station off Highway 50. Driver fled when approached by highway patrol. Matches Mills' description. Heading east toward the state line.

Sleep forgotten, Sheila sat up. Eddie Mills, the man she believed responsible for her mother's unsolved murder, was within reach. After years of dead ends and false leads, this could be her chance to finally bring him to justice.

Without hesitation, Sheila got dressed and grabbed her keys and badge. As she headed for the door, she paused, looking back toward Star's room. She couldn't leave without saying anything.

Quickly, she scribbled a note: Star, had to go out for work. There's food in the fridge. Call if you need anything. — Sheila

She slipped the note under Star's door, then rushed out to her car. As she pulled out of the driveway, her phone buzzed again. It was Finn.

Just got the alert about Mills. Want me to meet you at the station?

Sheila paused, her hand hovering over the phone. She thought about Finn, about their conversation earlier. About the future they'd talked about building together. She couldn't betray that now.

Yes, she wrote back. Thanks, Finn.

As she merged onto the highway, Sheila felt a familiar determination settle over her. The Coldwater Confessor case might be closed, but her own personal mission was far from over.

"I'm coming for you, Eddie," she muttered as she pressed down on the accelerator. "It's time to finish this."

As Sheila's car disappeared into the night, the quiet streets of Coldwater held no hint of the storm brewing on the horizon. The town had weathered one nightmare, but for Sheila Stone, a new chapter was just beginning.

And this time, it was personal.