The Darkest Hour

Chapter 9: Hidden Truths

I splashed cold water on my face, willing the nausea to settle. It had been like this for days now—early mornings, barely able to eat, my stomach twisting into tight knots that I'd blamed on stress. But I knew better. This wasn't stress, and it wasn't just the case. I gripped the edges of the sink, staring at my reflection, searching for some clue of what to do next.

My mind had been racing since the first signs appeared, trying to make sense of it, to convince myself that this couldn't be happening. But it was, and I was beginning to feel trapped, a truth that hung heavy over every decision, every step I took. Damon didn't know. And he couldn't know—not yet, not while we were in the thick of this.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door, snapping me back to the moment. Damon's voice came through, low and concerned. "Olivia, you okay? We need to get moving."

I took a deep breath, smoothing a hand over my face, forcing a calm expression. "Yeah, I'll be out in a second," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

As I opened the door, Damon's gaze swept over me, a slight frown creasing his brow. "You sure you're okay? You've looked... off for days." His voice was gentle, searching, and I knew he wouldn't let it go that easily.

"I'm fine," I lied, pasting on a smile. "Just the case. It's taking a toll, that's all." I started past him, hoping he wouldn't press further, but his hand caught my arm, his touch warm and steady.

"Olivia." His voice was soft, his eyes locking onto mine. "I know you. Whatever it is, you don't have to keep it from me. We're in this together, remember?"

I felt my resolve waver for a heartbeat, the words hovering on the tip of my tongue. But I couldn't say it, couldn't admit the truth when everything else was still so uncertain. "It's nothing, Damon. Really." I gently pulled away, heading for the door before he could see the flicker of doubt in my eyes.

Later, at headquarters, I could still feel Damon's concerned gaze following me as we moved through the day's debrief. Captain Morris was reviewing a map of our suspect's last known movements, filling us in on the latest sightings and leads. I forced myself to focus, mentally pulling up every detail of the case, blocking out everything else.

"Malone, Hale," Morris's voice snapped me back to attention, his gaze intense. "This killer is targeting you specifically, Olivia. He's waiting for you to make one wrong move. We've tightened surveillance on any potential hideouts he could be using, but I need you two to keep your heads in the game. There's no room for error."

I nodded, even as a faint wave of nausea washed over me again. Damon's hand brushed against mine under the table, a steady, grounding presence, reminding me I wasn't alone. And for a brief moment, I wished I could tell him the truth, to let him shoulder even a sliver of the weight that had been dragging me down.

As soon as the meeting was over, Damon pulled me aside, his voice low but firm. "I can tell something's wrong, Olivia. You've barely eaten, you're pale, and you're avoiding my questions." His hand brushed my cheek, and I felt a pang of guilt mix with the warmth of his touch.

"Damon, please," I whispered, forcing a small smile. "I just need to get through this case. We both do."

He nodded slowly, a shadow of hurt crossing his face before he looked away. "Fine. But I'm here. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here."

I turned, retreating down the hallway, feeling the weight of what I hadn't said pressing down on me. But there was no room for anything else right now—no room for weakness, for vulnerability. We were so close to the killer, and I couldn't risk letting my guard down, not when every moment counted.

Back at our hideout that evening, I found myself alone, staring down at a small pregnancy test in my hand, the two faint lines staring back at me, undeniable. My heart hammered, and I felt a strange mixture of panic and awe as the reality sank in. Damon's face flashed in my mind, his voice, his steady presence, the one constant I hadn't expected to find in the chaos of this case. But he didn't know. And he couldn't know—not yet.

For now, I had to keep going, stay focused, and finish what we'd started. I took a deep breath, steeling myself. The case had to come first.

Tomorrow, we'd go back into the field. We'd face whatever the killer threw our way, side by side. And as soon as it was over, I'd tell him everything. But until then, this was my burden to carry, a hidden truth that had to wait.