The Bound Between Us

Mr. Taylor had been Jason's boss, and more than that, his mentor.

Jason didn't bother with small talk. He went straight to the heart of it.

If Mr. Taylor was still involved, it meant the case wasn't dead yet. But if he wasn't...

Mr. Taylor's voice came through the phone, calm but evasive. "Jason, you haven't taken a real break in ages. I just spoke with Mr. White-we're thinking it's time you had a long vacation. You're in your thirties now, you know. Maybe it's time to start thinking about bigger things in life. Monica's a great girl. When are you going to let me drink at your wedding?"

He was dodging the real issue, and Jason knew it.

Jason glanced out at the city lights flickering against the night. "Sir, if I insist on digging into this, what happens?"

There was a heavy pause. "Jason, you're still young. Don't back yourself into a corner."

"Don't you want to know the truth, sir? If Autumn really is guilty-"

"The plaintiff dropped the case. That tells you enough. Jason, take a break. That comes from the top."

"Sir, every time something like this comes up, you either transfer me or send me on vacation. Maybe try something different next time." Jason frowned. “If I take a case, I see it through to the end. As long as I can face myself in this uniform, that's enough for me."

Taylor started, but Jason hung

back to the hospital room, sent Hank away, then handcuffed himself to Rowan. One sat at the bedside, the

Morning came.

had no idea Rowan had turned himself in. Herman hadn't told her-he was worried she'd do something

Monica called. Monica didn't realize Anastasia was clueless and

say that again. What

himself in, Ana. You didn't know?" Monica faltered, realizing too late. "I

Hanna hadn't called Anastasia. So she was

meant Jason and Herman knew, too. Yet nobody said a

go. We'll talk later." Anastasia wasted no time. She needed

She hurried downstairs.

kids, serving breakfast. When he saw Anastasia, he smiled and kissed her forehead. "Morning, love. The toast is fresh out of the oven. What kind of jam do you want today-tomato or strawberry?"

sang out, "Good

and Nancy's voices were soft and sweet; Pattie's was clear and gentle, no longer the rough whisper it

gaze to Herman. "Why didn't you tell me about Rowan turning

hand stilled mid-swipe with the butter knife.