Dalton strides through the doorway, but Beth barrels past him, her face taut with rage.

“Bitch? You’re calling her a—”

I grasp Beth’s arm. “I’ve got this.”

“No, Casey. I’m sorry. I know you think you deserve to be treated like crap, but you don’t.” She turns to Diana. “It wasn’t enough to lie to get yourself in here. You had to bring a friend, so you wouldn’t be alone. Casey doesn’t like to complain even when she has damned good reason, so I’m going to do it for her. The real issue isn’t that you lied to get into Rockton. It’s what you did to get her in.”

“I don’t know—”

“You hired some Italian thug to make Casey think the Saratoris were after her.”

“Wh-what? How would I—?”

“Your ex set it up. That’s what you told me when you were under the rydex and the pain meds. You confessed.”

I stand there, behind Beth, my knees feeling like they’re about to give way. I look at Dalton, but he’s staring at Beth, as stunned as I am. Then he catches a glimpse of my expression, and he moves up behind me, his hand going against my back as if to steady me, and I need that hand, God I need it. I sway slightly, and the hand moves around my waist, holding me still.

“You’re a lying bitch,” Diana says to Beth.

“We have proof,” Dalton says. “The council found the guy Graham hired, and he talked.”

He’s bluffing, but the look Diana turns on him isn’t disbelief. It’s hate. She glowers as if he’s responsible for all this. Dalton’s responsible. Beth’s responsible. I’m responsible. Everyone except Diana herself is responsible.

“Well, then, I guess I’m not the only one leaving, am I?” Diana says. “We’re both here under false pretences. So we’re both getting kicked out.”

Beth slaps her. The sound comes so suddenly, both Dalton and I jump.

“You accuse Casey of being a cold bitch?” Beth says. “You screwed up your life. Made bad choices and had to come here. Except you didn’t want to come alone. So you dragged your best friend—”

“She needed this!” Diana says. “For twelve years she’s barely even had a pulse.” She turns to me. “It’s not just guilt over Blaine and looking over your shoulder for Saratori’s men. You want to believe you bounced back after what happened in that alley, but no one bounces back from something like that. You needed to get away more than I did.”

“Who are you to decide that?” Beth says. “Casey was doing just fine. Homicide detective before her thirtieth birthday? That’s a hell of an achievement, and she loved her job. She’d also met a man she cared about very much.”

“The bartender?” Diana snorts. “The only thing she cared about was that he was good in bed and he looked good in one.”

“Then why is she still wearing his necklace?”

“Can we not do this?” I say. “Please?”

“The point I’m making, Casey,” Beth says, “is that you were doing fine when Diana upended your life. I know you’ve been making the best of it, but—” She exhales. “If there’s anything good to come out of this mess, it’s this: you can go home. The council will fix the issue with your job, and I’m sure your boyfriend would be happy you’re back.”

I stare at her. I haven’t even considered the fact I can go back now, because there is nothing to consider. Beth’s wrong. I wasn’t on the road to happiness down south. Hell, I hadn’t even found the map yet.

I’m also damned sure Dalton isn’t going to let me walk out on his investigation. But he hasn’t said a word.

“Casey?” he says finally.

He’s waiting for an answer. Because it’s up to me. Totally my call. He doesn’t care one way or the other, and after the sucker punch of Beth’s revelation, this feels like someone grinding his fist in the same spot.

“Butler?”

“I … I need to think about it.”

Silence. Then, “You need to think about it,” each word enunciated so slowly and so coldly, it snaps like an icicle.

I turn to Dalton, and I see that same ice in his grey eyes. Cold anger and hurt, and I realize he wasn’t saying he didn’t care if I went. He’d been wondering why I hadn’t jumped in to say I’m not leaving. Now he looks at me, the chill dropping with every passing second. Then he turns and walks out.

“Eric!” I stride after him, but Beth grabs my arm.

“He’s fine, Casey. He’s not going to be thrilled about you leaving mid-case, but this isn’t about him.”

“No,” I say. “It’s about me, and I have no intention of leaving.”

A look crosses her face. Confusion, it seems. Then she manages a tentative smile. “Good.” She hugs me, and it’s awkward, because neither of us is the hugging type, but she whispers, “I’m glad to hear it,” and I realize she wasn’t saying she didn’t care if I left, only that she’d understand if I did.

“I should talk to Eric,” I say, turning away.

“Let him go,” Beth says. “He’s stressed out and exhausted. Better he walks it off in the woods. Take some time and think about this before you tell him you aren’t leaving. Be one hundred percent sure.”

I nod and say I’m going to go think about it and maybe speak to Anders, and she smiles at that and says, “Yes, go talk to Will. I’ll look after Diana.” She mouths, “With sedatives,” and offers me a smile, which I force myself to return before I take off … after Dalton.