The guest room they shove her into smells like every inch of this house is trying to remind Heidi she doesn’t belong here. It pisses Darien off more than he wants to admit. The maids had run ahead of them, rushing with fresh sheets and pillows like they were preparing a room for royalty. But now that Heidi’s sitting there on the bed, small, shaken, and trying so hard not to fall apart — the space feels too big. Too white and too soft for someone who’s been living in a cell for hours.
Morgan sits beside her on the bed. He’s hovering around her in that annoying Morgan way. Grayson stands by the window, arms crossed, wolf simmering so close to the surface that Darien can practically hear its breathing. And Darien himself? He’s pacing quietly which is nothing like the chaos happening inside his head.
Heidi holds her hands together tightly, still in the oversized hoodie Morgan shoved on her earlier, still smelling faintly of the Castillo holding cells. And the sight of her so fragile like that but somehow holding the world together with her bare palms only deepens the vow he made outside.
"Protect her. No matter the cost. Even if the next cost is walking into war with your own father." Kairos reminds him.
Of course, Darien internally affirms.
He keeps pacing until Morgan finally sighs and turns toward Heidi.
"So," Morgan begins softly but seriously, "we need to figure out evidence. Anything that proves it was self-defense. Anything we can hand over to the court before the Castells try to twist things."
Heidi looks at him slowly, like her brain is lagging behind reality. "Evidence... I... I’m not sure."
Darien exchanges a look with Grayson. Not of judgment, just worry. She’s exhausted. Her voice keeps shaking. Her aura is frayed like threads pulled from a sweater.
Morgan leans forward. "You said you overheard Sierra talking in the kitchen. You could’ve filmed her, Heidi, or used the phone. The one I gave you. You could’ve..."
He doesn’t even get to finish before Heidi loses it.
She raises her hands over her head and begins to vent, voice cracking in the middle, "Morgan... do you think—if someone is trying to kill you—your first thought is to pull out your phone?"
Morgan freezes. Heidi pushes off the bed, her hands shaking, her breath rising in uneven bursts.
"This is my first time ever being attacked with murderous intent by a girl like me!" she yells, voice scraping at the edges. "I’m still new to all of this! A month ago, I was a normal girl. I woke up, went to school, and lived with my family. I didn’t expect anyone to try to murder me! And now everyone hates me and I don’t know why and I don’t even know how to fight back properly yet!"
Her chest heaves. She swipes at her face angrily. She’s not crying, just overwhelmed. "And you’re asking why I didn’t strategize?!"
The room goes dead silent. Darien can’t feel her pain like she does, but he can imagine it. He can feel a fraction of it by the way his heart twists watching her like that.
Morgan takes a breath, shoulders slumping. "Heidi... I didn’t mean..."
Darien steps forward before Heidi can collapse under her own agony. He reaches her, grabs her shoulders gently but firmly, anchoring her like he’s holding back a storm with his bare hands.
"Heidi. We’re not blaming you." He assures.
She clenches her jaw, looking anywhere but at him.
"We’re trying to help you win," Darien continues. "We know you acted in self-defense. But the court isn’t going to take our word for it. They’ll be looking for whatever they can use to tear you apart. That’s why we need everything you remember. Even the smallest thing."
Her breath stutters.
Morgan rubs the back of his neck. "I was out of line. I’m sorry. Truly."
Heidi sharply exhales, eyes flicking between them. Then she slowly sits back down on the bed, as if all the anger suddenly drained into pure exhaustion.
"I... I don’t know," she murmurs. "I don’t know what counts as evidence..."
"The smallest thing," Darien repeats softly.
She pauses, thinks twice, and then... Her face lits up.
"The knife," she whispers.
Morgan leans forward. "What knife?"
"The one Sierra brought to my room," she says, rubbing her arms. "She held it. She dropped it when I pushed her. The pack soldiers took it as evidence when they came for me. Sierra’s fingerprints should still be on it."
Morgan shoots to his feet so fast Darien nearly startles. "That’s something. That’s actually something real. I’ll go work on that."
"Good," Darien nods. "Heidi, anything else? Anything at all?"
Heidi looks down, fingers curling and uncurling in her lap. Then her eyes brighten once again.
"Back at the school," she pipes. "When Sierra and her friends fought me in front of your suite building... everyone watched. And some people were recording. Those videos might still exist."
Now that gets a reaction.
Grayson pushes off the wall like someone just lit a fuse under him. "We can definitely use that."
Darien nods. "It establishes a pattern of hostility. And bullying. Good. I’ll go after those videos. And I’ll gather witnesses too — anyone who’s seen Sierra being hostile toward you."
"My friends," Heidi adds quickly. "Valentina. André. Jia. Helena. They’d speak for me."
"Perfect," Darien nods,, already reaching for his phone to jot down names. "We’ll get all four."
Morgan looks at Grayson and jerks his chin at the door. "Come on. Let her rest for a bit. We’ll be back."
Grayson shrugs him off, eyes glued to Heidi. "I want to stay."
Oh, Goddess, sometimes, Darien wonders if Grayson forgets he’s twenty-one, not sixteen. He cuts in before Morgan can argue. "Morgan’s right. She must rest, not three wolves breathing down her neck. Let’s move."
Grayson scowls, but relents anyway. The three of them step out of the guest room quietly, leaving Heidi curled on the bed with the softest exhale of relief. But they barely make it halfway down the hall before...
... they find their father standing in the living room.