Chapter 4 Old Wounds, New Walls

The café was neutral ground.

Not too public, not too private. A little tucked-away spot downtown with mismatched chairs and faded menus, the kind of place no one paid much attention to, especially on a weekday morning.

Monique sat at a window table, her fingers wrapped around a warm cup of chai she had not sipped. She haf arrived early. Of course she had.

She almost didn't come at all.

But Ruby had said, "He wants to talk. So talk. And make him listen."

And so, she waited.

Then, at 10:20, he walked in.

Harris.

Still broad-shouldered, still annoyingly composed in that fitted gray shirt, badge clipped to his belt. His presence unsettled the air. The years hadn't aged him much, but they'd hardened him. He scanned the room like a man who never stopped being a cop even when he wasn't on duty.

Their eyes met.

His steps faltered for a split second.

Then he crossed the floor, pulling out the chair across from her without a word.

Monique broke the silence first. "No cuffs today?"

He winced. "You're out on bail."

"How generous."

He sighed. "I didn't want to arrest you like that."

"But you did."

"It's my job, Monique. Your name came up... what was I supposed to do?"

"And you just followed orders?" she cut in, voice low but sharp. "Even when that 'order' was dragging a mother out in front of her two-year-old?"

Silence. Like a slap.

Harris swallowed. "Whose child is that?"

Monique looked away, her jaw tight. "I didn't come here to talk about Cherry."

"Well, I did."

She raised her eyes to him, cold, guarded. "Thats no business of yours."

"Where's her father?? "

"Enough, you lost that right to ask me anything about my personal life" she snapped. "You let Billy pull strings. You let them cover up whatever happened at that warehouse. And when I begged you to believe me, when I needed you....." Her voice cracked. "You left me there. You made me run."

Harris leaned forward. "I didn't know what to believe."

"You didn't try."

"I was scared, Monique! Everything spiraled so fast. You were saying things about Billy, about Ms. Morris's daughter, and it all sounded like madness. I didn't know who to trust."

"And now?" she asked bitterly. "You trust the man who just framed me for murder? What am I even saying, I forgot you were also into her, she loved you too"

He ran a hand over his face, frustration bleeding through. "I don't know what the hell Billy's doing. But I've seen the case file. It's thin. And I never believed you killed Juliette, For the record you know it's you I really love, Juliette came into the picture and ruined everything."

"You didn't stop it either."

"I couldn't."

"You didn't."

Another silence.

Outside the window, two kids walked by eating ice cream, laughing, unburdened by betrayals and crime scenes.

Monique exhaled shakily. "Why did you really come?"

Harris looked at her then, no badge, no posture. Just a man who had messed up everything that ever mattered.

"I came," he said, "because I need to fix what I broke."

Her eyes narrowed. "You can't un-break it, Harris."

"I know. But maybe I can help."

She studied him, uncertain. "Why now?"

"Because there's a two-year-old girl who might be mine. Because Billy's hiding something. And because I see it now, what I missed before. You were scared, not guilty."

He looked down, voice softer. "I read the coroner's report. Juliette didn't die the night they say she did."

Monique froze. "What?"

"Time of death doesn't match. But they're twisting timelines. Someone is covering for someone else."

"So they needed a scapegoat."

He nodded slowly. "And you're easy to paint guilty when you've been gone two years."

Monique felt the ground shift. "So you believe me now."

"I believe something's wrong. And I think it started that night at the warehouse. With what you saw."

Monique's voice dropped to a whisper. "I saw Billy arguing with Juliette. She was crying. Then her mother showed up. Everyone went silent. I wasn't supposed to be there."

"Why were you?"

"I followed you. I knew you were lying about where you were going. I didn't trust Billy then, and I shouldn't have trusted you either."

He swallowed.

"I didn't mean for you to see any of that."

"Yeah," she said, "but I did. And now she's dead. And they want me to pay for it."

They sat in silence again. The kind born not just from pain, but history.

Finally, Monique said, "If you're serious about helping me, then start proving it. Because I don't owe you anything."

He met her eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Find out why Juliette was killed," she said. "And who made sure my name was the one on that report."

"And Cherry?" he asked softly.

She hesitated. "Leave my child out of this, and dont even think you're her father, because she has a father, and I am her daughter."

Harris nodded, the weight of her words sinking in.

"I'll do what I can."

"You had better."

He stood, pausing as if to say something more. But then he walked out, leaving Monique staring into her untouched chai, hands trembling.

The truth was finally stirring. But so were the ghosts.

And this time, she wouldn't run.