We Were Never Meant to Stay in Pain

Six years after I left Ashford, I ran into Brett Delgado in the airport nursing room.

He was mixing formula for a little girl, his hands far more practiced than they used to be.

We looked at each other for a few seconds before he spoke first. "Long time no see."

I smiled too. "Long time no see."

Six years ago he'd said he was going to meet an informant to gather evidence, and he never came back.

Everyone told me to accept it, said I was too stubborn, that I was the reason he'd been pushed somewhere dangerous.