Keira
The news landed like a bucket of cold water over what had been the first genuinely peaceful night in weeks, the warmth of the party and the balcony and everything with Jaxon suddenly overshadowed by the sick, familiar dread of Preston Hale's name appearing on my phone again.
"How is this possible?" I asked, staring at Monica's forwarded email like I could argue the words into changing.
"His attorney successfully argued the note and the surveillance, while disturbing, don't meet the legal threshold for a direct, immediate physical threat," Monica explained the next morning, gathered once again in the conference room that had become the unofficial headquarters for every crisis over the past two months. "The judge set bail. He's out, with conditions. No contact with you, mandatory GP
