The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 262

Mia lived in constant fear that one day the phone would ring, delivering a notice of death in the line of duty.

Rhys pulled the jacket tighter. "Is Grandfather asleep?"

"Just drifted off," Mia sighed. "He's still not very lucid. He was mumbling about you just now—one minute telling you to go to school, the next forbidding you from becoming a cop and demanding you settle down and start a family."

At his age, with organs failing one by one, the mind was fading too.

A lifetime of memories was bleeding together into a jumble he couldn't sort anymore.

In the old man's current cognitive state, Rhys was still the headstrong rookie fresh out of the academy, insisting on joining the Criminal Investigation Division to inherit Logan Huntington's badge number.

He had been an imposing, authoritarian figure his whole life. Only now, staring into the grave, did he feel a belated sense of guilt toward the grandson who had lost his father so young. He was terrified that once he was gone, there would be no one left to protect him.

Mia knew that this lingering worry was the only thing keeping the old man holding onto his last breath.

Rhys lowered his eyes. "If Grandfather wants to hold great-grandchildren, Liam already gave him Nellie and Mateo."

Liam Huntington and Wendy Murray had twins, a boy and a girl, now over a year old and babbling their first words.

"Your brother is your brother; you are you," Mia said firmly. "It's you he's worried about. You come back from every mission covered in injuries—do you think he doesn't feel that pain?"

She paused, glancing at him. "I know you're still thinking about Clara, but she's been gone for four years. You can't just..."

"She's back."

Rhys spoke suddenly, cutting Mia off.

Mia froze. "What?"

"Clara is back." Rhys turned his head, his dark eyes devoid of emotion. "She's right here in Brighton City."

The news was so sudden that Mia took a moment to process it. "This... when did this happen? How do you know? Did you see her?"

Rhys didn't answer immediately.

Down in the garden, a few elderly patients in hospital gowns were basking in the sun. A young father holding a child was approaching one of them.

Rhys had been sleeping again lately, but his dreams were haunted.

He dreamt of Clara in a wedding dress, marrying someone else. He dreamt of that little boy riding on Noah's shoulders, laughing carelessly.

Knowing she was happy, knowing the child was growing up healthy—that was enough.

The phone in his pocket vibrated.

Rhys took it out, glanced at the screen, and hung up with a blank expression.

"Who was that?" Mia asked.

"Telemarketer."

Rhys gave a curt reply, shoved the phone back into his pocket, and turned to leave. "Aunt Mia, I'm heading back to the station."

"Stay with your grandfather a bit longer."

"No, the team needs me for a briefing." Rhys pulled his collar up against the wind. "I'll come back tonight. Tell the nurse to keep an eye on the monitors and call me immediately if anything changes."

"Be safe," Mia called out to his retreating, solitary figure. "And don't push yourself too hard, you hear me?"

Rhys waved a hand without looking back.