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Jubal sat at the desk, staring at the reopened McMay file. The case haunted him—a cold thread he might have missed during the darkest days of his drinking. McMay’s guilt no longer felt certain, and that doubt gnawed at Jubal, refusing to let go.
Despite Isobel’s explicit directive to focus on their active case, the need for answers had driven him to defy her orders and visit McMay in prison. Now, the weight of that decision loomed over him.
The office buzzed with activity as Rina stormed into Jubal’s workspace, slamming the door shut behind her. “What the hell are you thinking?” she snapped. “Reopening the McMay case?”
Jubal leaned back, trying to appear calm despite the tension radiating off Rina. “I just needed to double-check a few things. It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be.”
“Not a big deal?” Rina’s frustration was evident. “Jubal, this isn’t just about you. Do you know how this looks? You digging up a case that should stay buried? It better not blow back on me.”
“I just… I need to be sure I got it right.” Jubal said, his tone low.
Rina crossed her arms, her expression hard. “And if you didn’t? Then what? You’ll unravel everything for the sake of your own guilt?”
The door swung open before Jubal could respond, and Rina abruptly stopped speaking. Isobel stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Rina brushed past her without a word, her tension palpable.
“What was that about?” Isobel asked, her tone calm but laced with authority.
“Nothing,” Jubal muttered. “Just a disagreement over an old case.”
Isobel’s gaze didn’t waver. “McMay?”
Jubal hesitated but finally nodded, gesturing toward his laptop. “Look at this. That coffee cup, it wasn’t coffee, It was vodka. I was drinking during the interrogation, Isobel. I need to know I didn’t screw this up.”
Her jaw tightened as she absorbed his words. “So, you defied a direct order.” Her tone grew sharper. “Do you realize what you’re risking?”
“I had to,” he said, his voice defensive. “I need to know I didn’t ruin someone’s life because I was too drunk to see the truth.”
Isobel’s frustration boiled over. “And in chasing closure, you took your eye off the active case. Twice now, you’ve chosen your guilt over your responsibilities.”
His shoulders slumped “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, a mix of anger and disappointment. She gestured toward the mug on the desk. "Is there vodka in there?"
“No, of course not, Isobel,” he snapped, cutting her off with a harsh response.
Her eyes didn’t waver, her tone unyielding. “Good. So, you’re thinking clearly now. Get back to the case at hand. Stop focusing on McMay.”
She turned to leave but paused in the doorway. “Jubal, about you and Rina earlier—it seemed heated. Is there something I should know?”
The question hung in the air, and Jubal’s silence spoke volumes. Before he could form a response, OA’s voice echoed from the JOC, announcing a break in the case. Isobel didn’t wait for an answer and walked away, leaving Jubal alone with his unease.
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That evening, Isobel waited until they were alone in his apartment. The day’s stress had been heavy, but this was different—this was about trust, and she couldn’t let it fester any longer.
“Jubal,” she began, her voice tight, “You and Rina, you were partners once... did something happen on the McMay case? Was there more than just your drinking?”
Jubal froze, avoiding her gaze. His hands fidgeted as he tried to find the right words. “Isobel, it’s... complicated.”
“Complicated?” She took a sharp step toward him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “What does that even mean? You’re arguing with her in front of the team, defying orders, reopening old wounds... I don’t know what the hell is going on with you.”
He exhaled slowly, his voice low as he confessed, “I was drinking a lot back then, Izzy. I know I made mistakes—more than I want to admit. But I couldn’t see it clearly, not like I can now.” Shame hardened his expression, and he hesitated before adding, “Rina and I... we had an affair.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating the space between them. Isobel stared at him, the shock and disbelief etched into her face.
He continued, barely meeting her eyes. “It wasn’t just the drinking. I—I hurt people. I wrecked my marriage with Sam because of it. And...”
Isobel’s fists clenched at her sides, her voice trembling with anger. “You had an affair with Rina?” she hissed. “You wrecked your marriage by fucking her… and you kept that from me?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jubal said softly. “I thought it was in the past, buried. I didn’t think it mattered anymore.”
“It matters now!” Her voice rose, each word laced with betrayal. “We talked about your affair, Jubal. You said it was some random fling; someone you met in a bar—not your fucking partner! You gave me hell for not telling you about Nathan, but you’ve been lying by omission this whole time.
Jubal opened his mouth to defend himself, but Isobel’s fury surged.
“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I’ve been honest with you about everything. And now, this?” She paused, her tone quieter but no less furious. “What else aren’t you telling me? What other secrets are you hiding?”
Jubal’s face twisted with regret as he searched for words. “I don’t know what else to say, Isobel,” he murmured. “I didn’t want you to know it was her… someone we work with. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You already have,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ve been here, trusting you, only to find out you’ve been keeping this from me.”
Her gaze hardened, and she took a step closer, her voice sharp and unforgiving. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is there still something between you two?”
Jubal lowered his head, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Isobel. I don’t know how to explain it—it’s just... messy.”
Her laugh was bitter, cutting through the tension. “Messy? That’s all you’ve got?” She folded her arms tightly across her chest. “Rina’s going to be in the New York office for a while. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
His eyes widened slightly, uncertainty flickering across his face. “I don’t know. I can’t say it won’t stir up old wounds.”
Isobel nodded slowly, her expression hardening further. “Should I be worried?”
Jubal hesitated; the words caught in his throat. “Maybe... I don’t know, Iz. It’s complicated.”
“Maybe?” Her voice rose, incredulous. “That’s hardly reassuring, Jubal.” She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Maybe we should take a time out from us while you figure it out.”
“While I figure it out?” he repeated, his eyes widening. The realization of her words hit him hard. “Isobel, wait, I—”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice firm and unyielding. “I need space. I need to figure out where we stand, and I can’t do that while you’re tangled up in this.”
She turned away, gathering her things with purposeful movements. She didn’t look at him as she walked toward the door.
“Isobel, please don’t do this,” Jubal pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.
She paused briefly, her hand on the doorframe. “I need time to think.”
Without another word, she stepped out, leaving him alone in the silence of his apartment, the weight of her absence pressing down on him like a suffocating storm.
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Isobel's mind raced as she walked the quiet streets. Her thoughts swirled around Jubal's confession.
He’d been honest with her when they’d talked about their pasts. He’d told her about the affair, how it had wrecked his marriage. She remembered the pain in his eyes as he spoke of it, the way he’d taken full responsibility. She’d listened, understood, even sympathized, because she knew what it was like to make mistakes and lose everything. But this... this was different.
He’d never mentioned that the affair was with Rina. A former partner. A woman he might still need to work with. Her stomach turned at the thought. Why didn’t he tell her? Was it because he didn’t trust her with the truth? Was there something about Rina he wasn’t letting go of? Maybe, even now, he still had lingering feelings for her. The idea stung more than she expected. She had always been able to see through his walls, but this? This felt like a betrayal she hadn’t anticipated.
Her irritation flared again, remembering how angry he’d been when she hadn’t told him about Nathan. It had been such a big deal to him, such a betrayal in his eyes. But this... this was bigger. So much bigger. He hadn’t just kept something from her. He had kept a part of himself—someone who mattered so much in his past—and now she had to question if that person still mattered in his present. Was she just the distraction, the safe option, while Rina lingered in the background?
Isobel felt a sense of betrayal gnawing at her insides. Why had he never mentioned Rina’s role in his past? Why had he kept that from her?
By the time she reached her door, her mind was spinning. She stepped inside, trying to breathe evenly, but the weight of it all—Jubal, Rina, the unspoken words between them—felt suffocating.
Without thinking, she walked straight to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of scotch, and swallowed it down in one go. Her hand moved automatically to her phone, the familiar number appearing without a second thought.
The phone rang twice before being answered.
“Jess, can you talk?”
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Jubal stood motionless as the door clicked shut behind Isobel, her words lingering in the air like a storm he couldn’t outrun. The weight of her anger—and her hurt—pressed down on him like a lead blanket.
She was right to be angry. He had kept so much from her—Rina, their affair, the guilt he had buried for years. Isobel had trusted him, opened parts of herself to him that she let no one else see. And now, he’d betrayed that trust.
His stomach twisted as he replayed the conversation. She had demanded answers, and when he’d finally given them, her eyes—those eyes he relied on for comfort—had turned cold. He should’ve told her about Rina from the start. Why hadn’t he?
The shame burned through him. Because I thought I could bury it. Because I didn’t want to face it—or face her. He rubbed his temples, trying to untangle his own thoughts. But the truth was, he didn’t have a good answer. Maybe he had convinced himself it wouldn’t matter anymore, that it was ancient history. But now, it was clear—it mattered. It had always mattered.
And I never thought I’d hurt her like this.
For years, he had leaned on excuses, telling himself it was the drinking that led to his mistakes, that the bottle was the cause of everything. But the truth cut deeper: Rina had been his escape when his life was falling apart. The affair had been fleeting, selfish—something that wrecked his marriage and left him with nothing but regret.
The anger in Isobel’s voice had been sharp enough to sting, but the hurt—the look in her eyes—that’s what gutted him. This wasn’t just about a mistake. This was about trust. And in breaking it, he’d brought them to a place they might not be able to come back from.
His thoughts drifted to Rina, to the tangle of lies and secrets that had defined their time together. She’s going to be around the New York office soon. Isobel’s right to worry. I don’t even know what I feel anymore. The past felt distant and blurry, yet its grip on his present was undeniable.
He let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of it all pressing down on him. Was there still something unresolved with Rina? He didn’t know. That uncertainty made his stomach churn. If he couldn’t even be honest with himself, how could he expect Isobel to trust him again? How could they move forward if he couldn’t confront the ghosts of his past?
But the hardest part wasn’t the past. It was the present. It was facing Isobel. And right now, he had no idea how to begin.
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He sat on the edge of his bed, his mind racing. He couldn’t leave things like this with Isobel. She deserved more than silence, more than him sitting here wallowing in regret. He had to make this right. But first, he needed to confront something he’d been avoiding Rina.
Picking up his phone, his fingers hovered over the screen as hesitation gripped him. His heart pounded as he finally typed out the message.
“Rina, I need to talk to you. Can we meet for coffee in the morning before work? There’s something we need to discuss.”
After hitting send, he exhaled slowly, leaning back against the bedframe. He wasn’t sure what he would say to Rina, but he knew the conversation was long overdue. Too many questions had been left to fester. And Isobel—her anger, her hurt—had made it painfully clear that he couldn’t keep avoiding the shadows of his past.
His thoughts shifted to Isobel, and his chest tightened. His thumb hovered over her contact, his heart aching as he wrestled with the weight of his mistakes. He had hurt her. He had broken something he’d never imagined would be at risk—her trust. She was everything to him, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. She needed to know he was sorry, that he still loved her, that he would do anything to fix this.
He typed a message with trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry. I love you. Can we talk tomorrow, please?”
Setting the phone down, he let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t expecting a reply tonight, and deep down, he knew he wouldn’t get one. This wasn’t something that could be fixed with a single message.
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Isobel sank into the warmth of the bubble bath, the heat soothing the tension in her muscles, though it did little to still her restless mind. The chaos of her thoughts churned relentlessly, refusing to let her find peace. She had spoken to Jess, trying to untangle the emotions that weighed on her, but nothing felt resolved. The pain, the anger—it all lingered.
As the water swirled around her, her phone buzzed on the nearby counter. She reached for it with a sigh, expecting another work notification or something inconsequential. Instead, her breath caught when she saw Jubal’s name.
“I’m sorry. I love you. Can we talk tomorrow, please?”
She read the message twice, her stomach twisting as the words settled over her like a heavy blanket. The ache in her chest deepened, familiar and raw, but it brought no clarity.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. Should she respond? Part of her wanted to, but another part—the part still raw and vulnerable—knew that replying wouldn’t ease the pain. It wouldn’t make anything clearer. Not yet. She needed time—time to process, to think, to figure out how to move forward from this.
With a heavy sigh, she set the phone back down, choosing silence. Instead, she closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water, letting the warmth envelop her.
And though she tried to let the heat carry her away from her thoughts, Jubal’s words—“I’m sorry. I love you.”—still echoed in her head.
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The next morning, Isobel walked into the office, the weight of the day already pressing down on her. She had to keep things professional, no matter how much her personal life was tearing at her insides. There was no room for distraction—not here, not now.
As she ascended the stairs, she focused her thoughts on her diary. But as she rounded the corner, her steps faltered, and her breath caught in her throat.
Jubal and Rina stood together, coffee in hand. They were talking animatedly, the kind of conversation that felt effortless—too friendly, too familiar. There was something in the way they stood, shoulders angled slightly toward one another, their proximity bordering on intimate, that made Isobel’s chest tighten.
A sharp stab of jealousy, anger, and hurt pierced through her, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. The sight of them together—the ease between them—was almost unbearable. She could feel the tears that had threatened to surface all night creeping closer, building behind her eyes, ready to spill over.
She sucked in a sharp breath, willing herself to stay composed. She straightened her posture and forced her expression into one of calm. The pain clawed at her, but she buried it deep, determined not to let it show.
Without another glance in their direction, she walked past them, her head held high, masking the ache that had settled in her chest like a stone.
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Jubal stood outside her office, unsure of what to expect. Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly and stepped inside, offering her a cup of coffee with a tentative smile.
“I brought you this. Thought you might need it,” he said, his voice fragile.
Isobel looked up, her expression cool and professional, her gaze flicking to the coffee without warmth. “Thanks,” she said flatly. “But this isn’t the place for whatever you’re trying to do, Jubal. We’re at work.”
The coldness in her tone hit hard, but he nodded, setting the cup on her desk. “Right,” he murmured. He hesitated, then spoke quickly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry—for everything. I should’ve been honest.”
Her fingers twitched on the file in front of her, but she didn’t soften. “I don’t have time for this,” she replied sharply. “If you want to help, give me an update. What’s the status?”
He swallowed hard, shifting into work mode despite the sting of her dismissal. “McMay’s still holding firm, repeating the same story. But there’s a connection I can’t shake, and I’m digging into it.”
Isobel leaned back, unreadable. “Don’t let it distract you. We’ve got other cases. Stay focused.”
Jubal nodded, though her dismissive tone cut deep. “Understood.” He turned to leave but hesitated again. He needed to say it, even if it made things worse.
“I, uh… I need to speak with Rina this morning about the McMay case.”
Isobel’s head snapped up, her jaw tightening. “Why?”
Jubal shifted uncomfortably. “I ‘m being transparent. She was there, she may remember something relevant.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. After a long pause, she spoke, her tone deliberate. “Transparency,” she said, testing the word.
Jubal opened his mouth to respond but stopped, knowing anything he said might make it worse. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly. “I just thought it was relevant for you to know.”
Isobel studied him, her expression unyielding. She exhaled sharply, her gaze falling back to the file on her desk. “We’re done here.”
Jubal stood for a moment; “I’ll keep you updated. And I’m sorry, for everything.”
She didn’t respond, her attention fixed on her work. He turned and left, the door closing softly behind him. As he walked down the silent hallway, the distance between them felt insurmountable.
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Jubal’s steps were heavy as he made his way to the roof, Isobel’s sharp gaze and the weight of their argument replaying in his mind. When he opened the door, she was there, standing by the edge, arms crossed.
“Isobel,” he called softly, stepping closer. She didn’t turn, but he saw her shoulders tense. “I know it’s not the right time, but I need to apologize.”
The silence between them felt unbearable. He sighed. “I messed up,” he added, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what else to say.”
She turned to face him, her eyes cold and guarded. “Was it just coffee with Rina, Jubal? Or did you reconnect with her on more than that?”
His stomach sank at the mention of Rina. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
“I saw you two this morning,” she said sharply. “You couldn’t even tell me about that?”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” he said cautiously. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it?” she asked, her tone piercing. Her eyes searched his face, waiting. “Did you sleep with her? Did you call her after I left?”
The question felt like a punch. “Of course not, Izzy,” he said, his voice steady but pained. “She was a mistake—a part of my past I should’ve left behind. You’re the one I care about.”
Her voice cracked with anger. “You didn’t sleep with her? But you cheated on Sam with her. And now I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t do that to me?”
Jubal flinched at her words, the truth cutting deep. “That was before,” he said softly. “When I was lost and drinking, making horrible decisions. I swear, Isobel, I’d never do that to you.”
“Right,” she said bitterly. “You love me, and that’s why you never told me your affair was with someone we both work with.”
He took a breath, his regret palpable. “I thought I could bury it,” he admitted. “I didn’t want it to matter now. I failed you.”
Her gaze hardened. “It’s not about the past anymore, Jubal. It’s about the fact that you didn’t trust me… respect me enough to tell me. And now you expect me to trust you?”
“I was trying to protect you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I thought I could leave it behind and move on. But I see that I hurt you by keeping it from you.”
He stepped closer, desperation in his tone. “I want us, Izzy. More than anything. I can’t change the past, but I swear I’m not hiding anything now. Please believe me.”
Isobel shook her head slowly, her expression unreadable. “It’s not just about the truth, Jubal. It’s about the trust you broke by hiding it.”
Her words hit him like a blow. He swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll do whatever it takes. If you’ll let me.”
She looked away, silent for a moment, then met his gaze again. “Just... give me time,” she said quietly. “I need to think about things.”
Jubal nodded, his chest aching. “Take all the time you need. I’m here, whenever you’re ready.”
He stepped back as the space between them seemed to grow wider. The road ahead felt uncertain, but all he could do now was wait and hope she’d come back to him.
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The tension between Isobel and Jubal was palpable in the JOC, a current that no one could ignore. Isobel’s usual poise felt sharper, her tone more clipped, while Jubal carried a quiet unease. Their team exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the rift but knowing better than to ask. The shift in their dynamic was undeniable.
By midday, Isobel stood in the conference room, briefing the team on a high-risk drugs operation. Her gaze barely flickered toward Jubal, though she could feel his presence across the room. She outlined the operation quickly, her voice firm, masking the turmoil underneath.
“OA, Scola, Jubal—you’ll lead the field team,” she said, her tone curt. “Maggie, Tiffany, I want you on surveillance.” She glanced at Jubal, her eyes cold. “Jubal, make sure you’re coordinating with NYPD when you’re out there. I don’t want any surprises.”
He nodded, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface. He knew what this was—she was sending him into the field, not just because of the case, but because she needed him out of her line of sight.
As the briefing ended Jubal lingered for a moment. “Isobel,” he began quietly, but she didn’t stop to hear him. She walked away, leaving him with the words he couldn’t say.
The operation was tense but under control. OA and Scola had eyes on the suspect, a mid-level distributor linked to a larger cartel, while Jubal coordinated with NYPD’s tactical unit. Everything was falling into place—until it wasn’t.
From the JOC, Isobel listened intently to the crackle of voices in her earpiece.
“Suspect’s on the move,” OA reported. “He’s heading toward the alley.”
“Copy that,” Scola confirmed. “We’ve got eyes.”
Isobel leaned closer to the monitor, her focus razor-sharp. Then came the words that sent a chill down her spine.
“Gun! Gun!” OA’s urgent voice cut through the air.
Shots erupted, chaos following. Isobel’s heart stopped.
“Agent down! I repeat, agent down!” Maggie’s frantic voice followed.
Isobel froze, gripping the desk as her breath caught. Who? The question screamed in her mind, but she forced herself to stay composed. Her team couldn’t see her panic.
“Maggie, I need details. Now.” her voice steady despite the pounding in her ears.
Maggie replied, her voice strained. “Shots came from the second floor. We’re securing the scene.”
“Status on medics?” Isobel demanded, her eyes locked on the monitor, willing clarity from the chaos.
“They’re en route. ETA three minutes.”
Three minutes felt endless. Isobel clenched her fists, her mind racing. Her mask of control held, but her heart couldn’t stop fearing the worst. What if it’s Jubal?
The sound crackled again. Maggie spoke her voice tight “The bullet’s sneaked under the vest, hit the abdomen. It’s bad, a lot of blood lost. Isobel it’s… Jubal.”
The words hit like a blow. Isobel’s composure faltered for an instant, her breath hitching.
“Medics are here,” Maggie added. “They’re working on him now.”
Isobel straightened, her voice calm despite the storm inside her. “Good. Keep me updated on his condition and secure the scene.”
“ETA on transport?” she asked Kelly, her tone clipped.
“Two minutes,” came the reply.
Each second dragged as she paced the room, hands clasped tightly behind her back. Her team worked diligently, but she could feel their glances. They knew something was wrong.
Finally, Maggie’s voice broke through. “They’ve got him in the ambulance. Heading to Bellevue.”
Isobel exhaled, the tightness in her chest loosening just enough for her to breathe, though her worry remained heavy.
Turning to the team, she gave a brisk command. “Stay on the operation. I want updates on every detail.” Then, softer, “I’ll go to the hospital.”
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her coat and left, her mind consumed with one thought: I can’t lose him.
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The sterile lights of the emergency room flickered overhead as Isobel paced, her coat clutched tightly in her hand. A nurse approached, clipboard in hand, her expression neutral but not unkind. “Are you here for Special Agent Valentine?”
“Yes,” Isobel replied quickly, her voice betraying the calm façade she fought to maintain. “How is he?”
“The bullet missed major organs, but there’s significant blood loss. They’re prepping him for surgery. The doctors will update you when he’s out.”
The words offered little comfort. Isobel nodded, murmuring a strained “Thank you” as the nurse walked away. Her throat tightened, and her stomach churned violently as dread pressed down on her.
She dropped into a chair in the waiting area, her hands trembling. A nagging thought crept into her mind: Should I call Sam?
If Jubal’s condition worsened, Sam needed to know. His kids had a right to be here. The thought of them enduring loss made her chest ache. The bile surged, and she bolted for the restroom.
She barely made it to a stall before vomiting. When it finally subsided, she leaned against the cold, tiled wall, tears spilling freely.
She had fought so hard to stay composed—for the team, for the case—but now, alone in the restroom, the weight of everything crashed down. She pressed her forehead to her knees, her muffled sobs echoing in the empty space.
Images of their fight replayed in her mind—the hurt in Jubal’s eyes when she’d turned away, the guilt in his features as he tried to explain himself. Her own cutting words echoed: “You didn’t trust me.”
What if that was their last conversation? The thought ripped through her. She thought of his laugh, his smile, the way he made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. The idea of losing him forever was unbearable.
She wiped her face with trembling hands, tears mixing with the cold sweat on her skin. I can’t lose him. Not like this. Not without fixing what we broke.
She straightened and left the stall, splashing cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back, pale and hollow-eyed. The mask of control she wore so well was gone, replaced by raw, unfiltered vulnerability.
As she stepped back into the waiting area, her phone buzzed in her pocket. For a moment, her heart jumped—maybe good news. It wasn’t. It was the team.
“Isobel,” OA’s voice came through, steady but tinged with concern. “How’s Jubal?”
“They’ve taken him into surgery.” she managed, though her voice cracked despite her effort to sound composed.
There was a pause. “We’ve got things handled here,” OA reassured. “Don’t worry about the case. Just... keep us updated.”
“I will,” she whispered before ending the call.
Sinking back into the chair, she gripped her phone tightly. All she could do was wait—and pray she hadn’t lost him for good.
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Isobel stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. Her breathing was shaky, her chest heavy with the weight of the call she needed to make.
Finding Sam’s number, with trembling hands, she pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear. It rang once, then twice, before a familiar voice answered.
“Isobel? What’s happened?”
She took a steadying breath, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “Jubal… he’s been shot. He’s in surgery now.”
Another pause. She could almost hear her processing the information, the sharp intake of breath that followed. “What hospital?”
“Bellevue,” she replied. “I thought you should know. I wasn’t sure if—” She faltered, swallowing hard. “If something happens, the kids... they should be here.”
Sam’s voice softened, though there was an edge of urgency. “I’ll get them and head over. Isobel, is he—he’s stable, right?”
“For now,” she answered quietly. “But he’s still in surgery.”
“Okay,” Sam said, the tension clear in her tone. “We’ll be there soon.”
The call ended, and Isobel let the phone fall into her lap, staring at it blankly. The weight of the conversation sank in. She had done what was necessary, but the reality of it felt crushing. Calling Sam, thinking about the kids… it made everything feel so much more real, more terrifying.
Minutes passed like hours. She didn’t know how much time had gone by when the sound of the waiting room doors opening drew her attention. Her heart lurched when she saw Sam, Tyler and Abigail walking in, their faces etched with worry.
Sam approached her, expression unreadable but tense. “Any updates?” she asked
She shook her head. “Not yet, he’s still in surgery.”
Tyler stepped forward, his voice steadier than she expected for a boy his age. “Is he going to be okay?”
Isobel meet his gaze. “The doctors are doing everything they can. He’s strong. You know that.”
Abigail didn’t speak, but her lip trembled, and she looked up at Sam for reassurance. She pulled her into a gentle hug, her free hand resting briefly on Isobel’s shoulder.
“Thanks for calling,” Sam said softly. “He’d want them here.”
Isobel nodded, unable to find the right words. Instead, she sat back down, the family settling into chairs nearby. As much as she tried to stay calm, her mind kept circling back to Jubal, to the image of him lying there, injured and vulnerable.
She couldn’t shake the guilt. Would he even want me here now? After everything I said?
The thought tightened her chest, but she forced herself to push it aside. None of that mattered now. What mattered was that he survived.
Isobel sat motionless; her gaze fixed on the floor as the weight of the moment pressed down on her. Tyler, quietly moved to sit beside her, his hand reaching out to clasp hers. The warmth of his touch startled her, pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts.
She glanced at him, his young face etched with worry. “Isobel, do you think dad be okay,” he asked softly
Isobel squeezed his hand gently, forcing a faint smile she didn’t feel. “He’s a fighter,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your dad’s strong.”
Nearby, Abigail was curled into her mother her tiny frame pressed against her for comfort. Sam had her arm wrapped protectively around Abigail, her other hand smoothing her daughter’s hair in soothing strokes. The sight of them huddled together made Isobel’s heart tighten painfully.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be, she thought, her mind racing. I shouldn’t be meeting his children like this, in a hospital waiting room, it should’ve been different —something fun, something happy.
Her stomach churned at the cruel irony of it all. She had only exchanged polite hellos with Tyler and Abigail a handful of times, passing them in the office on the rare occasions they visited. They didn’t know her, not really, and now here she was, trying to comfort his son.
The sharp click of heels broke through her thoughts. Isobel’s head snapped up, and her stomach sank as she saw Rina approaching. The other woman’s face was drawn with worry, her expression a mixture of guilt and concern.
Sam noticed her immediately, her jaw tightening as she shifted Abigail. She stood, her glare icy and unyielding. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice low but laced with anger.
Rina hesitated, her eyes darting between Sam and Isobel. “I just... I heard… I wanted to see if he was okay. If I could do anything.”
Sam stepped forward “You’ve done enough,” she said bluntly. “You should leave.”
Rina opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the doors to the surgical ward swung open. A doctor in scrubs stepped into the waiting room, his expression calm but serious.
Everyone froze, the tension in the air palpable. Isobel stood slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Family of Jubal Valentine?” he asked, his voice steady.
Sam stepped forward, her arm still protectively around Abigail, and Isobel instinctively moved closer, still clutching Tyler's hand. Her stomach churning with dread.
“That’s us,” Sam said, her voice tight.
The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “The surgery went well. The bullet missed any major organs, but there was significant internal bleeding. We were able to repair the damage, and he’s stable now.”
Stable. The word landed with a bittersweet thud in Isobel’s chest. She exhaled a shaky breath, the tightness in her throat loosening just enough to let her breathe. Tyler’s grip on her hand tightened, and she squeezed back, grounding herself in the moment.
“He’s in recovery now,” the doctor continued. “We’ll be monitoring him closely, but barring any complications, we expect him to make a full recovery.”
“Can we see him?” Sam asked, her voice softer now, the tension easing slightly.
“He’ll be moved to a private room shortly. You can see him once he’s settled,” the doctor replied before offering another nod and stepping away.
The room fell silent for a moment, the relief hanging heavy in the air. Isobel closed her eyes briefly, letting the news wash over her.
As she stepped back to give the family space, her gaze flicked to Rina, who stood awkwardly to the side. Isobel’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing, simply turning away.
This moment wasn’t about her, or Rina, or even the complicated emotions swirling in her chest. It was about Jubal—and making sure he knew how much he was loved when he woke up.
------------------
Sam turned back to Rina, her posture rigid, the protective anger bubbling back to the surface. “I don’t think you understand,” she said sharply. “I don’t want you here.”
Rina opened her mouth, perhaps to defend herself, but the piercing glare Sam levelled at her stopped her cold. “This is his family. His children. We don’t need you here making this harder.”
The tension in the room thickened, and Isobel felt it like a tangible weight pressing down on her. She stepped forward, ready to intervene if needed, but before either woman could say more, the sliding doors to the waiting area hissed open.
OA, Maggie, and Scola entered, their presence immediately filling the space with a sense of controlled urgency. Maggie’s gaze landing on Isobel. “How is he?”
Before Isobel could answer, a nurse appeared. “He’s being moved to recovery now. You’ll can see him, but only two visitors at a time.”
Isobel nodded, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to bubble over. “You and the kids should go in Sam.”
Sam hesitated for a moment, her eyes softening as she looked at Isobel. “Thank you,” she said quietly, before turning to Tyler and Abigail. “Come on, let’s go see your dad.”
The three of them followed the nurse down the hall, leaving Isobel standing in the centre of the room with her team and Rina. She took a steadying breath before addressing them.
“There was no major organ damage, internal bleeding that they managed to repair in surgery, the doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.”
Relief flashed across their faces. Isobel asked the inevitable question.
“Do we have the shooter?”
Maggie stepped forward, shaking her head. “Not yet. We secured the scene and apprehended several suspects, but the shooter managed to slip through the perimeter. We’re running facial recognition and combing through the area for any leads.”
“Few witnesses that saw anything useful,” Scola said grimly. “But we’ve got surveillance footage from a nearby store. It’s being analysed now. We’re hoping it’ll give us something.”
Isobel’s gaze flicked briefly to Rina, who lingered awkwardly by the wall. She decided to ignore her for now, focusing instead on the team. Her jaw tightened, her mind already racing through possible next steps. “I want updates as soon as you get anything actionable.”
The intensity in her voice silenced the room for a moment. Then Maggie nodded. “We’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll be back at the JOC once I’ve checked in on Jubal.”
The agents exchanged a glance before OA spoke. “Take your time, Isobel. We’ve got this covered.”
She nodded, her gratitude unspoken but evident in her expression. As they turned to leave, Before the team could leave, Rina stepped forward from her spot by the wall, her posture awkward but her voice steady. “You’re short-handed… I could help out”
The offer hung in the air for a moment. Isobel’s gaze shifted to Rina, suspicion flickering behind her eyes. She opened her mouth, ready to dismiss the suggestion outright, but then paused, considering. They were spread thin, and if nothing else, Rina’s skills could be useful.
Maggie glanced at Isobel, before offering a slight nod. “We could use the extra hands.”
Isobel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine. Maggie I want updates on everything. I don’t want to hear about any surprises.”
Maggie placed a hand briefly on Isobel’s arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze before following the others out.
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Isobel sat quietly in the waiting room, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled her from her trance. Sam’s face was drawn, her eyes rimmed with red, but there was a faint hint of relief softening her expression.
Tyler shuffled beside her, his hands buried deep in his hoodie pockets, while Abigail clung tightly to her mother’s hand.
“He’s stable,” Sam said softly. “Still asleep, but he looks… ok.”
Sam glanced at Tyler and Abigail. “It’s been a lot for them, but they’re relieved to see him.” She paused, her voice softening. “He’s going to be okay.”
Isobel nodded, her eyes briefly meeting Tyler’s and then Abigail’s. “Your dad’s tough. He’s going to get through this. And when he wakes up, he’ll be so proud you were here for him.”
Tyler gave her a small nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, while Abigail offered a faint, hesitant smile.
Straightening, Isobel turned back to Sam. “I’ll go in, if that’s ok?.”
Sam gave a nod, her hand brushing over Abigail’s hair. “He’d want you here. We’ll wait out here.”
Isobel entered Jubal’s hospital room quietly, her heart pounding in her chest. The soft hum of machines filled the air, a rhythmic reminder that he was alive—fragile, but alive. She moved toward the bed, her eyes scanning his pale face, the rise and fall of his chest beneath the crisp hospital sheets.
Carefully, she pulled the chair closer and sat beside him. Her hand found his, warm but limp in hers, and the dam of her composure broke. Silent tears streamed down her face, and she pressed her free hand to her mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that shook her body.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned forward, her forehead brushing their joined hands. “I thought I might lose you.”
A soft groan made her freeze, her head snapping up as Jubal stirred. His eyelids fluttered open; gaze unfocused at first before landing on her tear-streaked face. His brows knitted together in concern. “Izzy?” His voice was hoarse. “Hey… don’t cry.”
Isobel let out a watery laugh, shaking her head. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Jubal’s hand shifted slightly in hers, his grip weak but deliberate. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, his eyes locking on hers. “For everything. For the fight, for hurting you… all I could think about was you.”
Tears welled in her eyes again as she squeezed his hand. “Jubal, you don’t need —”
“Yes, I do,” he interrupted, his voice gaining strength. “You’re everything to me, Izzy. I love you, and I’ll do anything to fix this. I’ll prove to you every single day that you can trust me. We’ll get through this… together.”
Her heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his gaze cutting through the fear and hurt she’d been carrying. Without hesitation, she leaned forward, brushing her lips gently against his. It was soft and lingering, a kiss that carried all the words she couldn’t say.
When she pulled back, her voice was steady but thick with emotion. “I love you too, Jubal. We’ll figure it out. Just… don’t scare me like that again.”
For the first time in what felt like days, Isobel allowed herself to breathe, resting her forehead gently against his. In the quiet stillness of the room, their fingers entwined, a fragile sense of peace settled over her. It wouldn’t be easy, but they would find their way—together.