I stood beside my sister’s coffin, one hand on the tiny casket ribbon meant for the baby she never got to hold, when her husband walked in with his mistress on his arm. My bl:ood ran cold. ‘You really thought I wouldn’t find out?’ I said, flashing my badge. For weeks, I’d gathered every lie, every message, every trace of bl:ood. And when I exposed him in front of everyone, his smile vanished—but that was only the beginning.

A year to the day after the funeral, I drove back to the cemetery.

The autumn wind was crisp, scattering golden leaves over the manicured lawns. The cathedral in the distance was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted there a year ago.

I walked down the winding path until I reached Elise’s grave. Next to her headstone was a smaller one, marked simply: Baby Boy Sterling. Loved Before He Was Known.

I knelt on the damp grass. I didn't bring flowers; Elise had always said flowers were a tragic waste. Instead, I brought a small, pristine blue ribbon, identical to the one I had touched on the day I arrested Victor.

I tied it carefully around the stem of a small, resilient evergreen shrub planted near the headstones.

For the first time since my sister called me crying all those months ago, the tight, suffocating band around my chest loosened. The tears I had refused to shed during the investigation, the trial, and the media circus finally broke free. I wept for the sister who had been my shield, and for the nephew I would never get to spoil.