"Yeah…" Jamison answered, his voice taut and weary.

Ivy’s gaze lingered on his injured hand, her mind replaying the events of the night; tremors of fear still rippled through her chest.

Now, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt and self-reproach.

Thinking back, if she had never returned—if she’d stayed locked away in that pigsty deep in the mountains—then Micah and Emma would likely have married by now, maybe even had a child.

But because she came back, directly or indirectly, two young lives were lost.

If Farley Shepherd didn’t make it through the night, that would make three.

She’d always believed that “I did not kill Boren, but Boren died because of me”—and for the first time, Ivy questioned whether her path of revenge was truly the right one.

All she’d wanted was for Emma to face the consequences she deserved—she’d never meant for anyone to die.

But with such a horrifying price paid, even her search for justice felt stained with blood and guilt.

Usually so clear-headed, always knowing exactly what she wanted, Ivy found herself lost for the first time.

By the time Jamison finished bandaging his hand, Micah’s body had been taken away by the funeral home.

When his brother approached, Thad instructed, “Your hand’s injured. Go home and get some rest. I’ll head over to the station and see what’s happening. I’ll handle the arrangements for Micah. Please keep an eye on Mom and Dad. There’s no way we can keep this news from them for long, and I’m worried they won’t be able to take it.”

“Yeah. We’ll just have to take it one step at a time,” Jamison replied quietly.

With their tasks divided, Thad and Davina left the hospital.

Worried their parents might catch wind of what happened, Jamison decided to spend the night at the hospital.

“Ivy, it’s already midnight. I’ll have one of the drivers pick you up—you should go home and get some sleep.”

“No need. I’ll stay here with you,” Ivy said without hesitation.

She still hadn’t fully recovered from the shock. The image of Carla wielding that knife haunted her. Her heart clenched every time she remembered it.

Besides, Jamison’s hand was hurt. If his parents did hear the news in the middle of the night and something happened, he wouldn’t be in any shape to help. It was safer for her to stay.

Jamison started to protest, but she cut him off. “If I go home alone, I’ll just have nightmares.”

He looked at her, saw the fear in her eyes, and his brow furrowed.

Right. He’d forgotten about that.

If she went home by herself tonight, she’d probably lie awake, tormented by her thoughts.

“Alright, then stay here with me.”

There were empty VIP rooms available anyway.

Jamison quickly arranged for them to stay in the room next to his grandmother’s. The two of them slipped inside quietly.

But that night, neither of them could truly sleep.

Ivy turned on her side and clung to Jamison, words hovering on her lips, yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to say them.

Jamison, too, lay awake.

Somewhere in the small hours, realizing Ivy was still awake, he whispered, “Try not to think about it. Get some rest. The next few days will be exhausting—you need your strength.”

She was pressed close against him, and as he spoke, she could feel the deep, resonant vibration of his chest. His voice was low and steady, but there was an undercurrent of grief that made her ache with guilt.

After a moment’s silence, she couldn’t help but murmur, “Jamison…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you regret it?”

He frowned and turned to look at her. “Regret what?”

Ivy lifted her gaze. In the darkness, she could just make out the outline of his face.

“If we hadn’t been together, maybe none of this would have happened,” she said, her voice thick with remorse.

“Don’t say that,” he replied quietly but firmly. “None of this is because of us.”

“Maybe… I should never have come back. I could have gone anywhere—just disappeared.”

If she hadn’t returned, maybe fate wouldn’t have claimed Emma and Micah.

She wasn’t a saint, but having two lives on her conscience was almost too much to bear.

Hearing her blame herself, Jamison turned to face her, meeting her eyes in the dim light.

“Ivy, listen to me. What happened to Micah and Emma—it wasn’t your fault. We all make choices, and we’re responsible for the consequences. If you really want to trace this back, you were the first, and the most innocent, victim in all of this. The rest… well, they brought it on themselves, one way or another.”

He spoke gently but seriously, afraid that if she let the guilt consume her, she’d do something drastic.

Like leave him.

Ivy sighed. “I know you’re right. I do. But that doesn’t change what happened. Two people are dead…”

Maybe three.

“I mourn their loss too,” Jamison said softly, “but in the end, they made their own choices.” He reached out and stroked her hair, soothing her. “Try to sleep. You’re still recovering. Don’t wear yourself out worrying about everyone else.”

Ivy closed her eyes, forcing her thoughts to quiet.

But just as the room settled into silence, Jamison’s phone rang again.

The shrill ring sliced through the night, making Ivy’s heart skip a beat and her mind snap back to full alertness.