It seemed like Wednesday would never come. Feyre spent the next few days following the wedding in a blur, roaming around the house and avoiding Tamlin as much as she could. She kept fidgeting with her phone, watching TV mindlessly throughout the day as she thought back on the events of the last few weeks. As she thought back on every interaction she'd had with Rhysand. She'd given him her word that she wouldn't say anything until they talked, and she wouldn't. But she couldn't stop herself from reliving everything that had happened, and wondering what she would have done differently if she'd known all this from the start.

She jolted from her armchair as the front door opened and Tamlin came in, followed by a man she didn't know, Hybern, and… Rhysand.

He didn't look at her as they all went down the hall to Tamlin's office, so Feyre waited until she heard them enter the office, and then she waited some more before getting up and going into the corridor. Rhys was standing outside the door, arms crossed, and he didn't move until she was standing in front of him. He finally looked at her then, and uncrossed his arms to lift a finger in front of his lips. She nodded, and he moved away from the door and towards the bathroom door down the hall. A place where they could speak without being heard, but also a good excuse for him to have moved from his post. Finally, once they were inside with the door locked, he whispered to her something she wasn't expecting.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not saying anything."

"I'd given you my word, I wasn't going to break it."

"Yeah well… thank you anyway."

She gave him a small smile and answered: "You're welcome."

They fell silent, and Feyre leaned against the sink, looking at him clearly for the first time since the wedding. He was back to his usual clothes, but now that she'd seen him in an elegant dark shirt, these clothes seemed unfit for him, as if the leather jacket and jeans were not intended for him. His face was as beautiful as ever, but his eyes seemed more tired, more worried than she'd ever seen them. Or maybe she just hadn't noticed before.

"I don't have a lot of time right now, their meeting isn't going to last long. What do you want to know?"

"I -" she stopped. "I don't know."

She'd spent most of her time the last few days thinking about him, but now that he was actually here in front of her, she was at a loss for words. As if understanding her struggle, he gave her a small smile and said:

"I can't imagine how hard all of this must be for you. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for you to be involved."

He seemed sincere, and she smiled back. "It's fine. It's just… I can't really wrap my mind around it."

Silence encircled them again, and Feyre knew he was giving her time to collect her thoughts and maybe form a coherent sentence. She thought of all that had happened in the last few weeks, and finally, she had a question.

"What happened to Sandy, you… You were the one who suggested moving her. Why?"

He sighed and muttered "Certainly not starting easy," then he looked back at her and began talking. "I decided to move her because they were starting to talk about making her disappear, and I couldn't let that happen. So I figured moving her body would do less damage."

"So you… I mean Sandy's body, it…" Feyre didn't know how to finish her sentence.

"She was taken care of. And she'll get justice."

She didn't know what he meant by that exactly, but still, hearing these words changed something inside her. She felt lighter somehow, and she left out a low laugh of relief. Sandy's murder had been eating her alive, but if Rhysand was a detective, then it was likely that it would not go unpunished. But then…

"Will Tamlin be involved in the murder? Will… Will I?"

"I was a witness, I know what happened, and you were an innocent party that night. As for Tamlin, I told you the other day, he's not the main focus of my investigation. Honestly, I don't exactly know what is going to happen with that investigation, I'm disconnected from the force so I don't have regular updates on these things."

"Will you tell me more if you learn anything?" She needed to know. But he coughed and ran a hand through his hair, as if wary about what he was about to answer.

"Feyre, I… You're not going to see me again."

"What?"

"All of this, it's a very dangerous mission for me, and now that you know about me, I'm risking my life every day that I keep working. So I'm being pulled out of this assignment."

"I won't say anything, Rhysand."

"It's not about whether or not I trust you, Feyre. You could let it slip without meaning to, and I can't take that kind of risk. My work with Hybern was nearly over anyway so it's fine. I'm seeing my handler soon, but I'm pretty sure she will remove me immediately so… I won't come back here again."

Feyre took him in, his tired eyes and low shoulders, and she understood. He was risking his life, and she was a risk for him. It was smart to stop now for him, it was the safest way of action. She understood, but it didn't make it easier to accept. She'd come to rely on their nightly conversations more than she cared to admit, and she had a hard time imagining going back to the sleepless nights before they'd started talking. But he was right of course, and even though she liked talking to him, she had to admit that the few days since she'd learned his true identity had been extremely stressful, and she wanted him gone, and everything back to normal. So she just nodded at him. They heard voices coming from Tamlin's office, and with a last look in her direction, Rhys got out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Tamlin took her out to dinner that night, and for a few hours, Feyre didn't think about murders, drugs, or undercover detectives. She just enjoyed the company of the man she'd fallen in love with, enjoyed what semblance of normalcy she could muster. They got home at around eleven, drank some more wine, got up to their bedroom and made love on top of the covers. Tamlin fell asleep only minutes afterward, an arm draped over Feyre's stomach.

And then it happened. Lying naked and relaxed, Feyre was suddenly overwhelmed with the voice of Sandy screaming at her as images of a blood-soaked carpet started invading her mind. She got up quickly, grabbed a bathrobe and went downstairs. Curled up in her usual armchair, she started reliving the events of the last few months. And as she started thinking about everything she'd learned and witnessed since the dinner party, she also started to realize something else. She would never be able to go back to a time before that night. She couldn't erase the fact that she'd witnessed a murder, nor ignore the other illegal activities she knew were happening around her. She could try to live a normal life, but her mind wouldn't be at ease as long as she stayed in this situation without doing anything. Maybe she couldn't do anything to help Sandy, but she could at least try to prevent something that bad from happening to anyone else.

A new-found determination in her movements, Feyre got up, grabbed her cellphone, and looked for Rhysand's number.