Grace POV

The folder slides from my trembling fingers. Papers scatter across the polished dining table, evidence I never thought I'd have.

'Evidence. Real evidence.'

My chest swells—joy so sharp it hurts. My feet move before I can think, carrying me around the table toward Ethan.

His eyes widen.

I throw my arms around his neck.

He catches me, hands sliding to my waist, steadying me. His scent fills my lungs—pine and something wild, something distinctly ...