Chapter 380 Only One Left

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    Quinn’s voice lowered. “You vanished. Dad and Mom died. I was the only one left. Their biggest regret had been that neither of us married or had kids. After they passed, I left the service and chose marriage.”

    Yet when she was at her weakest, the hand she reached for turned out to be the wrong one.

    Leander blinked. “You mean… you didn’t marry Julius Whitethorn?”

    “His name was Trent Grafton.” Quinn let the name roll off her tongue the way one might flick dust from a sleeve. “Five months ago, I divorced him.”

    Leander’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel before he found his voice. “That man— Trent Grafton–was he cruel to you? Did he make you suffer?”

    “Cruel? No. Just… insufficient.” She stared through the windshield as if the night road could swallow the memory. “I was the convenient second choice when his first dream slipped away. He hungered for things I could never give, while what I needed rested forever beyond his reach. Three years of marriage were nothing but my own private performance–me apuding myself in an empty theater–so I chose divorce and walked out before the apuse finally died.”

    “A man like that,” Leander muttered, voice like gravel sliding over metal, “doesn’t deserve you.”

    A thin, almost yful scoff escaped Quinn. “If you still had your memories, you’d be itching to track Trent down and teach him a lesson with your own two fists.”

    Leander’s jaw set, the tendons in his neck standing out beneath the dashboard glow. “What if the memories nevere back? Would you still call me your brother then?”

    Quinn murmured, “My brother is, aside from our parents, the person who has loved me most in this world. From the moment I took my first breath, he has shielded me. He would trade his life for mine without hesitation, and I would do the same for him. A man like that, if he ever regains what he’s lost, will look back on certain choices he’s making now and ache with regret. I refuse to stand by and let my brother live with that kind of regret. So instead of asking whether I’ll still im you, ask yourself this–do you want to live as Rowan Bridger or as Leander Fane?”

    Silence folded over the car like an extrayer of night.

    When they rolled into a highway service area, Quinn climbed out, filled the tank, then leaned in through the open door. “Your turn. Two hours behind the wheel.”

    16:57 Tue, Sep b9 /b

    Chapter 380 Only One Left

    “All right,” he said.

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    They switched seats, the shuffle of limbs and clicking of seat belts loud in the otherwise still

    air.

    Quinn watched him settle into the driver’s position. Even stripped of memory, his hands found the wheel with the same sure elegance, his knuckles turning white at the exact curve of leather they always had.

    Her brother had always been a gifted driver. Years ago, when she first learned, it was his calm instruction that kept her from jerking the clutch or stalling the engine.

    By the time the headlights carved into Yarburn’s sleeping streets, it was well past midnight and the city was little more than a hushed constetion of streemps.

    Quinn opened her door, a rush of cold air pping her cheeks awake. “We’ll grab a motel for the night,” she said. “At first light, we head to the Hero’s Memorial Garden.”

    Leander’s hand hovered over the key before he asked, “How did Mom and Dad die?”

    The question belonged to Rowan, not the man who answered to Leander Fane.

    “Three

    years ago, they were on a Peacekeeping Force mission overseas.” Her voice roughened, every word scraped from the bottom of her lungs. “They died protecting each other, locked in an embrace so tight the medics couldn’t separate their bodies. They were cremated together abroad, and only their ashes came home.”

    Leander swallowed, voice barely more than breath. “When you went to collect the ashes… did someone go with you?”

    “No,” she answered, the single syble soft yet

    absolute.

    She could still picture herself standing alone on the parade ground of the Yarburn Army Base, the urns cradled in her arms, the wind whipping her coat against her knees.

    “I’m sorry,” Leander whispered, as though anything louder might break her.

    “I went alone, but the country did not abandon them. When I carried the ashes from Jexburgh back to Yarburn, half the base lined the road to salute. On the day we buried them, even more came to see themid to rest. I stood before their tombstones and swore that as long as I drew breath, I would find you. I would bring you home so we could honor them together, and they could finally rest easy”

    Leander’s lips formed words that never escaped. The only sound was the brittle inhale he could not steady.

    16:57 Tue, Sep b9 /b

    Chapter 380 Only One Left

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    “Your disappearance was the wound they carried to their graves. After that mission, they nned to search the border again for you, but fate robbed them of the chance.” Quinn’s voice was hoarse.

    “You are Rowan Bridger,” she said. “Son of Montague Bridger and Arlene Gurney. My brother. A soldier sworn to this nation. You stand for honor and for family. If anyone dared nder our parents, you would never let it pass. Tell me, Rowan, can a man like that truly beg mercy for someone like Serena Fane?”

    The words mmed into Leander’s ears like rolling thunder. For a heartbeat, he swore his eardrums trembled, a raw ache blooming deep inside his skull. He clenched his jaw so tightly his mrs groaned, as though invisible ws were raking at something buried within him.

    “Or is it something else entirely? Did Serena Fane catch you in her ws, ckmailing you “Or into shielding her?” Quinn held his gaze, refusing to blink.