The smell of oranges hits me as we walk into my aunt’s apartment. I instantly look for a bowl of the fruit on the counter in the kitchen, but there’s nothing that I can see. Must be a scent plug-in somewhere. After she lost her husband, she moved into a smaller place. I had only been here a few times myself, since we usually meet somewhere for lunch. Even though she lives alone, it feels…homier.

Since hospital visiting hours don’t start until nine, we came here first. Regardless whether we find my aunt’s journal or not, I plan to be at the hospital on time to see her. I’ll come back later if I have to. The update texts Charlie sent last night were encouraging. He said the swelling was going down and that they hope to schedule a scan later today to see if she will need surgery or not.

In the meantime, I’ll search. I glance around Aunt Vanessa’s quiet apartment and see a basket of yarn with knitting needles next to the couch, a stack of library books, magazines about food and wine on the coffee table, and an exercise bike in the back corner of the main room, I realize just how little I know about my aunt. When did she take up knitting? I thought she hated to read. And the bike? I smile slightly, despite my worry. Was she working off all those fancy dinners she and Charlie consumed?

Cass goes straight for the end table next to the sofa. Pulling open the drawer, she quickly searches the contents inside. “Nope. Strike one for Charlie on her journal,” she says, glancing at me

I flip through the stack of library books: a self-help one on learning to let go, another on meditation, a book on lower fat foods, and surprisingly, a book on how to grow and dry your own cooking herbs.

“I doubt you’ll find it in there, Talia.”

“Huh?” I glance at Cass, who has moved over to a bookshelf to run her fingers along the books’ spines. Pausing, she looks at me. “Your aunt wouldn’t take a chance that she’d accidentally leave her journal in her library return stack.”

“True.” I quickly scan the room and shake my head. “Let’s try her bedroom.”

Cass walks ahead of me, making a beeline for my aunt’s nightstand. I smile slightly, watching her riffle through every single drawer for the missing journal. She’s really getting into this hunt. After I search through the dresser, I turn to face her. “So nothing?”

Shutting the last drawer on the nightstand, Cass throws her hands up and sits on the edge of my aunt’s bed. “Other than pills, hand lotion, pens and reading glasses—why does she have four pairs?—there’s no journal. I hope Den is having better luck downstairs with the landlord.”

“If there’s anything the police missed, I’m sure Den will uncover it,” I say as I stare at the navy blue and burgundy colors in the white quilt on my aunt’s bed. Running my hand over the circle and star pattern, I smile that she had finally found one to suit her taste. She’d talked about having a hard time finding the perfect one. They were either too thick and she was constantly throwing it off, or too thin and required an extra cover, which meant she was always going to have to cover up the pretty pattern.

“Did your aunt have any go-to hiding places in the past?” Cass stands and lifts an antique glass perfume bottle from the top of the long dresser, sniffing the fancy dispenser.

“For jewelry and money, yes. She kept them in the freezer, but that would ruin a journal.”

Cass pumps the atomizer bulb and as my aunt’s scent fills the room. My heart twists with a memory. I was about six-years-old when I decided that I no longer wanted to smell like a boy…

That’s it! I hated Todd next door for saying I looked like a lost dog and smelled like an alley cat. I didn’t care if my jeans had holey knees and dirt stains on the butt, or that my ponytail was crooked. I was going to smell like flowers. Like my Aunt Vanessa. She always smelled so good, which made her pretty to me. If I smelled good, then I would be pretty too.

I stomped down the hall to my aunt’s bedroom while she talked on the phone to someone she worked with. Her perfume bottle was on her tallest dresser. Not that I let that stop me. I looked around and realized that her cushioned side-chair would make me tall enough to reach the bottle, so I pushed it over against the dresser and climbed up the back of it, balancing on top.

Lifting the perfume bottle, I sniffed and wrinkled my nose at the strong sweet smell. The silk covered bulb bounced against my hand, and I stared at the strange contraption wondering how to get the perfume out. I turned the bottle and pumped the bulb, instantly squeezing my eyes tight as the sweet, flowery mist sprayed me right in the face.

I coughed, then frantically glanced back toward the doorway, hoping that Aunt Vanessa didn’t hear me. I’d get in so much trouble if she caught me playing with her perfume. She’d told me she saved for two years to buy it, so she only wore it on special occasions.

When my aunt’s constant chatter floated down the hall, I exhaled a sigh of relief. As I licked my lips, my tongue suddenly felt like someone had lit a match to it. Breathing hard, I scrambled down from the chair and ran into the bathroom, sticking my face under the running faucet.

I must’ve gulped in a gallon of water, but nothing seemed to calm the fire raging in my mouth, so I did what any freaked out six-year-old would do.

I screamed to my aunt for help.

Touching the bottle in Cass’s hand, I chuckle at the memory as what happened next pops into my head. I quickly turn to stare at the burgundy side-chair my aunt had bought to decorate her current bedroom.

“What’s so funny?” Cass says as I approach the chair. Once I lift the cushion to reveal a thin black journal underneath, she gasps, “Well, I’ll be damned. How did you know to look there?”

I pick the journal up and shake my head. “Foolish childhood shenanigans. When my aunt moved the chair back that I’d used to get to her perfume on her dresser, she reached under the bottom cushion and readjusted something underneath. It didn’t even register with me at the time what she was doing, but obviously she’d hidden something there. Most likely money, since she didn’t keep a journal back then.”

Cass and I sit down on my aunt’s bed and start reading from the most recent entry.

I’m tired of worrying. Someone is following me. I know it. It’s time to prove I’m not crazy. I contacted Talia and she says she’s going to give me some suggestions for security cameras. I wonder if they make one I can attach to my purse?

We look at each other. “How long has this been going on?” Cass asks.

My stomach knots as I flip back several entries to see.

“There.” Cass points to the page. “Three weeks ago, she mentions that it has been quiet for months.” Her brow furrows. “I remember you telling me that you thought she was trying to get your attention when she mentioned wanting to hire BLACK Security before you got married.”

“I did think that, and since she never mentioned it again after she attended the wedding, I assumed that I was right.”

Cass looks at my aunt’s journal. “Flip to see what she said back then about being followed.”

I do as she suggests and my gaze freezes on my aunt’s entry.

Another hang-up call today. Third time this week. I wonder if Talia is trying to call, but doesn’t know what to say. Did she block me and that’s why I can’t see her number?

My gaze lifts to Cass’s brown one, my own full of tears. “Remember, right before we got married, my aunt showed up at my work asking about hiring BLACK Security? During that conversation she mentioned that I hadn’t left her any messages, so she was reaching out to me instead. I didn’t know she was referring to actual calls, thinking they might be from me.”

Cass wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You didn’t know. You had every reason to distrust whatever she said. The last thing you need to do is blame yourself right now. That won’t do anyone any good. Certainly not Vanessa.”

I swipe away my tears, knowing she’s right. Taking a breath, I go back to the most recent entry, then start reading backward through every single one for three weeks straight.

The instant I stop and take out my pen, Cass says, “What?”

“One thing my aunt’s paranoia taught her was to pay attention to her surroundings,” I say, jotting down a description my aunt mentions in a notepad I retrieve from my purse. “She wrote down everything she noticed, however insignificant.”

Cass leans over to see what I wrote. “So she’s disgusted by some guy across the street who’s peeping into the neighbor’s apartment on the first floor? How does that help you?”

I point to my aunt’s entry. “He takes video.”

As Cass shrugs her confusion, I go back and write down every location my aunt says that she felt followed, including the dates and times. Closing the journal, I tear off the paper, then tuck my notepad away. “Let’s just see how it plays out. That guy across the street might be helpful. Right now all we know is that according to her journal entries, my aunt felt like she was being followed but couldn’t prove anything. Then someone attacked her. The two might not be connected. We don’t know yet, but if a connection exists, that might give us more ways to try to find the person responsible.”

“Did you find anything?” Den says from the bedroom doorway.

“A possible lead.” I stand from the bed and tuck my aunt’s journal back where we found it. “How about you? Did you learn anything useful from the landlord?”

“He claims the hallway light wasn’t out the night of your aunt’s attack. That it was only dark when they found her. He said he had to change the bulb because the filament had popped somehow.”

“I thought I saw a security camera downstairs,” Cass says.

“They have a camera, but it hasn’t worked in months.” Den scowls. “It will be running by the end of the day. The landlord’s also going to make sure the city replaces the broken light outside the building.”

“Was Elijah able to ping Aunt Vanessa’s phone?” I ask Den.

“He tried, but the thief must’ve removed the SIM card.”

I hand Den the piece of paper with the location of the peeping Tom at the top of the list. “If Calder’s able to get away, please have him get this guy’s video from last night while we’re visiting my aunt in the hospital.”

Den raises his eyebrow at the words Peeping Tom and Video on the paper, so I elaborate. “Aunt Vanessa recently documented a guy living across the street who likes to take nightly videos of the person on the first floor in my aunt’s building. If a video exists, we might get lucky and see who followed my aunt in the main entrance and attacked her.”

“Dang, I read the same journal entry,” Cass says, shaking her head. “Why didn’t I think of that? Guess I’d better stick with photography. My talent is definitely more visually driven.”

As I smile at her appreciation of the investigative process, Den folds the paper away in his pocket. “Don’t forget that the light outside your aunt’s building is out right now. If video does exist, it might be too dark to tell anything.”

“I understand, Den, but it’s still worth a shot. The rest of the locations, dates and times on that list are where she said she felt followed. Maybe some of those areas might have a camera feed that we can check too.”

As Den nods, I glance at my watch. “I want to take pictures of the entryway before we head to the hospital.”

* * *

Theo hugs me once I reach my aunt’s hospital room. He’s not a big talker. I know the hug is his way of saying he’s sorry for what has happened. Pulling back, I smile my gratitude. “Thank you for watching over my aunt, Theo. It means a lot.”

“You only need to ask, Talia.”

I’m so glad he’s taking my advice and is letting his buzz cut grow out a bit; the slight wave in his light brown hair suits him. And the sight of him briefly smiling at a couple of nurses as they pass warms my heart. Ever since I called Theo by his first name instead of his last, Sebastian grumbled that I was turning his toughest guy into a marshmallow. As far as I was concerned, Theo’s towering height, thick arms and muscular chest are intimidating enough. Sebastian didn’t mind that Theo and a few others practically lived and breathed their jobs, but the one thing I’ve learned over the last year is that work isn’t the main event. If you’re truly lucky, you’ll get to do a job that’s also your passion, but it’s still work. Life is what happens after the work is done.

As I told Sebastian: an employee who’s fulfilled at home will be much happier at work. So one of the changes we made at BLACK Security is that each employee must take at least one week off. Life is too short not to live it.

Now I glance at my aunt’s hospital room door, feeling the truth of that sentiment staring right back at me in room number 457. “Is Charlie still here?”

Theo shakes his head. “He said he’ll be back in the afternoon. They’ve moved your aunt’s scan up to later on today to determine if she’ll need surgery.”

“Moving it up means her swelling must be better,” Cass says from behind me with cups of coffee in her hands. Den’s beside her holding the bouquet I bought on the way to the hospital. He insisted on carrying it up for me.

At least things are going in a positive direction.

My gaze misty, I take the bright yellow flowers from Den and tuck the tall vase against one side of my belly, before pushing my aunt’s door open. “Good morning, Aunt Vanessa. We’re bringing you a ray of sunshine,” I announce as Cass and I walk in.

And that’s exactly what Cass and I do. For the next three hours, between nurse visits to check to make sure my aunt’s breathing is fine, Cass and I sit alongside my aunt’s bed and deliver sunshine by sharing some of our craziest college stories.

When I start reminiscing with Aunt Vanessa about the perfume story, her eyes crinkle and glisten, but then she gasps in pain and I lean forward to clasp her hand. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Vanessa. I didn’t think about the fact that laughter would be painful right now.”

She grunts and reaches for her pain medicine button, but her pained eyes never leave my face. I move the button into her hand and realize what her gaze is saying: this is wonderful. Keep going.

Cass and I are quiet as we wait for the medicine to kick in. The room’s phone rings, piercing the silence. The ringer is so loud that the baby startles, little arms and legs shooting in all directions. “Ow!” I wince, my hand instantly going to my stomach.

“Are you okay?” Looking concerned, Cass quickly stands and moves close to my chair. “I swear your coffee was decaf. I asked the barista three different times.”

“Foot…in my rib cage,” I gasp. “Help me stand so she’ll move.”

After the pain subsides and I take a deep breath, my aunt gestures to my belly.

“I’m fine, Aunt Vanessa.”

She shakes her head and points to my belly once more, this time raising her eyebrows.

“She’s asking if you know, Talia.” Cass grins, giving me the side-eye. “You called the baby a ‘she.’ So do you know?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I truly don’t. Sebastian always refers to the baby as a boy, so I guess in my subconscious I feel it’s only fair to give the female gender equal time.”

“Sounds about right to me.” Nodding her approval of my logic, Cass picks up the phone and hits the voicemail button.

With an inscrutable look on her face, she sets the handset back on the cradle. “Talia, there’s a visitor downstairs who insisted on waiting to deliver flowers. Maybe I should go get them?”

I take my cue from her expression not to ask. Instead, I touch my aunt’s arm. “I’ll be right back with your flowers. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

Once Den and I step off the elevator and enter the lobby, I check my phone and see that I have missed a text from my father.

Sebastian sent me an update on Vanessa. I’m so sorry, Talia. Please let her know that I hope she heals quickly.

I will. Thank you for thinking of her.

I tuck my phone away as Den and I walk toward the main desk downstairs. The second Nathan’s curly, dirty-blond hair comes into view, my steps slow. What’s my ex doing here? He’s the last person I expected to see.

“Hey, Talia.” Nathan’s gaze strays to Den, taking in his imposing height when he steps into place next to me. “I hope it’s okay that I came by,” Nathan says, holding a small bouquet of white mums toward me. “I saw the story about your aunt in the daily news cycle and wanted to wish her a speedy recovery. How is she doing?”

“Thank you, Nathan,” I say, taking the flowers. “We don’t know the full extent of her injuries yet, but we’re hoping for the best.”

Nathan nods as he slips his hands into his suit’s pant pockets. “I hope she gets well quickly. The article didn’t say how the police investigation was going. If you don’t have any leads on the person responsible, I’ll be happy to lend a hand in helping you comb through whatever data you have.”

“That’s nice of you to offer—” I pause as Den takes the vase from me. “—but we’ve got it covered.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this kind of stress right now,” he says, his brown gaze traveling to my pregnant belly as he buttons his suit jacket. “So, if you need extra help, my offer stands.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Of course, I never will. I won’t forget that he put me at risk with the last case we worked together when I interviewed a gang leader named Banks while I was still at the Tribune. When Nathan called the police on Banks, he’d apparently done it to prove he could protect me just as well as my Navy SEAL husband could. That showed me my ex never really moved on from us. Leaving the Tribune to join BLACK Security was the best change for me, both personally and professionally. With the memories resurfacing, I have to force a smile. “Thanks for coming, Nathan. I need to get back to my aunt now.”

Once Nathan walks out of the hospital entrance, the person at the desk says, “Are you Talia Blake?”

I nod and she holds up a potted lily plant. “This came for Mrs. Granger in care of your name an hour ago. Would you like to take it up to her?”

“Sure, we’ll carry it up.” I take the small flower vase back from Den so he can carry the potted plant.

As Den and I ride the elevator up to the fourth floor, he looks at me and frowns. “I don’t like that little man.”

I mentally snicker that he considers anything under five-eleven little. “That’s one thing you and Sebastian have in common. He despises Nathan.”

“Then we’re in agreement,” Den says. “Sebastian sent a text asking us to return to the office. He has the reports on your aunt’s case.”

“Okay, I’ll just say goodbye to my aunt.” My heart ramps in anticipation of seeing the lab reports and what the crime scene team might’ve picked up from the hallway where my aunt was attacked.

Cass is waiting in the hall with Theo when Den and I return. “What are you doing out here?” I ask as we approach.

“Doctor Zimmer is in there with your aunt. He said she needed privacy.” Her dark eyebrows elevate at the signed “Get Well” card stuck in the white mums. “How weird was that? I don’t remember you telling me that Nathan ever really talked to your aunt. He was totally here to see you, Talia.”

“Yes, it was a bit awkward,” I say on a sigh. “And no, Nathan and my aunt have only spoken briefly at a couple functions in the past.”

Cass glances at the lily plant Den’s holding. “Who is that from?”

“Talia’s father sent them. He wishes Vanessa a fast recovery.”

I look at Den with a slight smile. He’s completely unapologetic for having read the contents of the card. “Security?”

As he nods, the doctor opens the door and I quickly whisper to Cass, “Charlie should be here soon. Let’s go in and tell Aunt Vanessa we’ll see her tomorrow. Sebastian wants us to get back to the office.”