Chapter 7: Millhaven Bridge
They went at midnight.
Reeves wanted to send two of his people ahead.
Julian said no — two unfamiliar faces in a dark park would close every door before they reached it.
He said Mara goes first, alone, visible.
He said he would be close enough to matter and far enough not to show.
Mara walked across Millhaven Bridge at 12:08 in the morning with her hands in her coat pockets and the particular quality of calm that came not from the absence of fear but from having already decided.
The park on the east side was small — three benches, a row of bare trees, a path that curved around a low stone wall.
In summer it would have been pleasant.
In November it was the kind of place that felt like the end of something.
Petra was on the second bench.
She was sitting with her coat pulled close and her eyes on the water below the bridge, and she did not look up when Mara's footsteps came down the path.
She said: "I wondered if it would be you."
Mara sat down on the other end of the bench.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
"How much do you know?" Petra said.
"Enough," Mara said.
"Remy.
The photograph.
Eight months of working both sides."
Petra's jaw moved.
"I wasn't working both sides.
I was trying to get out."
"I know."
"And then he found out." Petra's voice was very flat.
"He called me.
He didn't threaten me directly — he never does anything directly.
He just said he'd been thinking about my situation.
He said he understood I was under a lot of pressure.
He said he hoped nothing happened to complicate things for the people I cared about." She stopped.
"He meant you.
He meant the other staff.
He meant anyone I'd been around long enough to be connected to."
Mara was quiet.
"He always does that," Petra said.
"He doesn't say the thing.
He says the thing next to the thing, and you understand perfectly, and you can never prove he said anything at all."
"So you gave him the dinner," Mara said.
"I gave him the dinner." Petra's hands tightened in her lap.
"I told myself Farrell was just supposed to be a warning.
I told myself Remy wouldn't actually —" She stopped.
"I knew.
I knew what Farrell was.
I just needed to believe something different for long enough to make the call."
"And now?"
Petra looked at her for the first time.
Her face in the dark was tired in a way that went deeper than one night.
"Now Farrell is in custody," she said.
"Hale is in custody.
Remy knows the case is still alive and he knows I'm the reason it's still alive, and the only thing he doesn't know yet is where I am." She paused.
"He'll figure it out.
He always figures it out."
"Then you have a window," Mara said.
"To do what?"
"To finish what you started eight months ago."
Petra looked back at the water.
"You don't know what you're asking."
"I know exactly what I'm asking," Mara said.
"I'm asking you to testify.
I'm asking you to give Julian Cross what he needs to close this case.
I'm asking you to stop protecting a man who just used you to try to kjll someone."
"He's my brother."
"I know."
"He's the only family I have left."
"I know that too." Mara turned to face her fully.
"Petra.
He told you he was worried about the people you cared about.
He pointed at me.
He pointed at people who had nothing to do with any of this, and he used them as a lever, and you moved." She paused.
"That's not a brother protecting his sister.
That's a man using his sister because she's the last lever he has left."
Petra's eyes closed.
"The photograph," she said quietly.
"The one I dropped."
"Reeves has it."
"My brother took me to that park every Sunday for three years after our mother died." Her voice was very careful, the way voices get when they are managing something large.
"He was seventeen.
I was nine.
He used to bring sandwiches in a paper bag and we would sit on the wall and he would tell me the names of the boats on the river." She opened her eyes.
"That man still exists somewhere.
I keep thinking if I protect him long enough, I'll get him back."
"You won't," Mara said.
It was the hardest sentence she had said all week.
"But you might get yourself back."
The park was very quiet.
Then Petra said: "Is Cross here?"
"Yes."
"Close?"
"Close enough."
Petra stood up.
She straightened her coat.
She looked at the water one more time — the way you look at something you are leaving.
"Tell him I want full cooperation terms in writing before I say a single word," she said.
"Tell him I want witness protection processing started tonight, not tomorrow.
And tell him —" She stopped.
Her voice dropped.
"Tell him I'm sorry about his partner."
Mara stood.
She took out her phone and typed two words to Julian's number.
*She's ready.*
The reply came back in four seconds.
*Coming in.*
Footsteps on the path.
Julian Cross emerged from the tree line with Reeves behind him, and Petra watched him come without flinching — the way you watch something you have been dreading for a long time and are finally, exhaustedly, relieved to see.
"Ms.
Voss," Julian said.
"Mr.
Cross," Petra said.
"Your partner's name was Daniel Reyes.
I want you to know I didn't know about that until after.
I want you to know it changed things for me."
Julian was quiet for a moment.
"I know," he said.
"That's why I'm here instead of sending someone else."
Petra nodded once.
She looked at Mara.
"You're very good at your job," she said.
"I'm a waitress," Mara said.
Petra almost smiled.
The full smile, this time.
Both sides.
May you like
"No," she said.
"You're really not."
