Chapter 443

[ 1,010 words ]

Katia’s POV

Julian didn’t slow down.

We drove straight through, leaving the shouted questions behind us, and found Gail waiting in the front hall when we walked inside. Her face was pale. Her phone was still buzzing nonstop in her hand.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said the moment she saw us. “Every reporter in the city thinks I’m some kind of underground racing legend. My phone won’t stop. I’ve had three calls from people at the hospital asking if the rumors are true p>

I crossed the room and pulled her into a hug before she could say anything else. I felt her shake a little against me. The full weight of an accusation she never asked for was finally catching up to her.

“We’re going to fix this,” I said. “I promise you. We’re going to fix this p>

Over her shoulder I met Julian’s eyes. Neither of us said a word out loud, but we both understood. Whatever came next was going to take every bit of careful strategy this family had left.

Grandma Celeste came out of the study a moment later. Her expression was composed despite the chaos, but I could see the tightness at the corners of her mouth. Even she hadn’t fully prepared for something like this.

“The board of directors at the hospital called an hour ago,” she said. “They want a statement from Gail before thisaffects her position there. I told them she wouldn’t be making any statements until we understood exactly what we were dealing with p>

“Good,” Julian said. “Nobody says anything to anyone until we have a plan p>

Gail pulled back from my embrace and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Some of her composure returned now that she was surrounded by family instead of facing this alone.

“What do we actually do?” she asked. “I can’t just deny it and hope people believe me. Tessa has photographs. She has a timeline. Denial alone isn’t going to be enough against evidence that clear p>

“We don’t deny the timeline,” I said slowly. An idea was already forming as I spoke. “We explain it. You disappeared because you took Aiden somewhere quieter, away from the crowd, because that’s what any responsible aunt would do with a six-year-old at a loud, chaotic event. You returned once the race ended because that’s when you went looking for the rest of the family again. None of that requires you to be Catwoman. It only requires people to stop assuming the worst explanation is automatically the correct one p>

Julian looked at me, something considering crossing his face.

“That could work,” he said. “If we can find enough people who genuinely saw you with Aiden during that window. Enough witnesses who can confirm the real reason you weren’t visible p>

“Half the family was standing right there,” Grandma Celeste said. “Martha and David saw her leave with the boy. I saw it myself. This isn’t a story we need to invent, Julian. It’s simply the truth, told properly, with the right people willing to confirm it p>

Gail let out a shaky breath. Something like hope started to surface through the exhaustion still written across her face.

“You really think that could actually work p>

“I think the truth usually does,” Grandma Celeste said, “when enough people are willing to stand behind it plainly p>

I reached for Gail’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“We’re not letting this define you,” I said. “Whatever it takes—however many statements or interviews or witnesses we need to line up—we’re fixing this before it goes any further p>

Gail nodded. Some of the color finally returned to her face. For the first time since we arrived, the house felt less like a place under siege and more like what it had always been: a family finding its way through crisis together, exactly the way we always had.

Julian and I watched the press conference from our own living room, the television volume low, both of us leaning forward on the couch as Gail stepped up to the podium set up in the estate’s front garden. I had my legs curled beneath me, a cup of tea going cold in my hands, unable to focus on anything except my sister-in-law’s face filling the screen.

“I am Catwoman,” she said, her voice calm despite the visible tension in her shoulders.

The room on screen erupted into noise, reporters shouting over one another, and beside me Julian went rigid, his hand finding mine and gripping it tightly enough that I understood exactly how much this had blindsided him too.

She had not told us. She had left the estate that morning claiming she needed air, and instead she had called a press conference herself, deciding, apparently alone, that the fastest way to end this was simply to give Tessa Sterling the confession she wanted, true or not.

I did not know how to feel about it, watching her stand there on the screen, absorbing the full weight of an identity that was never actually hers, protecting me in a way I had never asked her to.

A reporter near the front pushed forward, phone raised.

“How long have you been racing,” she asked.

“Long enough,” Gail said, giving nothing further away.

“Will you be racing again?” another voice called out.

“That remains to be seen,” Gail said, and stepped back from the podium before anyone could press further, walking off through the side gate with the same composed pace she had walked in with, the reporters still shouting questions behind her that she never turned back to answer.

Julian turned off the television and sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the dark screen as though it might still offer some explanation neither of us had access to yet.

“She should have told us,” he said finally.

“She was trying to protect me,” I said. “I think she decided the fastest way to do that was to simply take the accusation herself before anyone had time to talk her out of it p>

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