Aneira looked at Jaxton, her heart thumping against her chest, as if bracing herself for disappointment. She searched his face for a hint of humor, a glimmer of a smirk, anything to suggest this might be a cruel joke. But there was nothing. Just Jaxton, calm and composed, his sharp jaw steady, his eyes locked on hers with unwavering seriousness.
Please don't let this be a joke.
She hadn't thought about the case in so long. After it was closed, buried, dismissed like it never mattered…No, like she never mattered, she'd forced herself to move on. Or at least, pretend to. The pain had been too great. That case had almost destroyed her. Nearly ruined her life, her future. For weeks, she couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Depression had wrapped its icy fingers around her ribs and squeezed so tightly that breathing became a conscious effort.
