Page 143 of The Convict Gets His Girl

And it had led them all here to this one night. If Jewel had truly listened, truly engaged with her daughter, might Destini have made a different choice? Might she have felt safe enough to say no?

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken realizations. Jewel watched her daughter's back, seeing not just a teenager, but a reflection of herself—wounded, defensive, desperate to be heard but unsure of what to say or how to say it.

Jewel's hands clenched and unclenched, the ache constant. She'd spent years building walls, teaching Destini how to control emotions. But control wasn't protection or processing. It was a prison.

"You're right," she said softly, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't talk, but I don't want you to learn my bad habits. It's good to confront the truth and talk about it. I—I want to be better. So let's talk."

She moved slowly, carefully, climbing onto the bed and settling beside Destini. Her back pressed against the cool comforter, eyes lifting to the ceiling where glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the darkness—a little piece of Chase's love, installed before Destini had even moved in.

The stars seemed to pulse with a quiet energy, witnesses to this moment of potential transformation. Destini remained turned away, but her body had softened slightly. Not relaxed, but listening. Waiting.

Jewel knew this was more than just a conversation about tonight's fire, tonight's party. This was about breaking generational silence. About showing Destini a different way of moving through the world—with openness and vulnerability.

Her hand inched closer, not quite touching her daughter, but close enough to offer connection.

"I'm listening," she whispered. "When you're ready."

Destini's shoulders tensed, then slowly relaxed. A deep breath escaped her, laden with the faint remnant of teenage defiance.

"Kayla wanted to join her boyfriend at a party," she began, her voice low and measured. "So we snuck out, and she drove us to Jake Miller's—his parents were out of town. Everyone was just hanging out, playing music, talking."

Jewel's fingers traced an invisible pattern on the bedspread, her muscles tight with unspoken anxiety.

"I know I shouldn't have gone," Destini continued, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her defensive tone. "But everyone was going, and I... I just wanted to feel normal. Like a regular teenager. I was tired of everyone talking about my dad being a convict and calling me a goody two shoes. The science kids… they don't like me here. I didn't make the debate team—they said I could try out next year. But the soccer kids welcomed me, and Kayla is the team captain."

The unspoken weight of her words hung between them. Normal, what every teenager both craved yet dreaded.

"One of the football boys hit on Skye, which isn't unusual. But then all of them kept trying to get us to drink, even though we said no. Kayla disappeared with her boyfriend, and then the guys brought out shots and pills and—and it was just too much. So I called Dad while we hid in the barn."

Jewel waited, giving Destini time. Eventually, Destini moved onto her back, linking their fingers together between them. "I was so glad to see Dad. He was like a knight in shining armor. Uncle Gunner was there too, and Dad didn't want to leave him there to deal with a dozen teenagers. So Skye, Vi, and I locked ourselves in Raul's car while Dad and Uncle Gunner went to break up the party."

A deep, soul wrenching sigh filled the room.

"Then the fire started." Destini's voice changed, becoming sharper, more urgent. "It was so fast. One minute we were just talking, and the next—flames were everywhere. Dad and Gunner were getting kids to safety, then Kayla came stumbling out of the barn, screaming about her boyfriend—and Dad… he just rushed inside."

Jewel's breath caught. Her mind raced with images of her daughter in danger, of Chase and Gunner rushing around, of Chase running headlong into danger.

"I don't think I'll ever forget him running into that barn," Destini said, her tone softening. "I kept thinking—what if I never get to ride horses with him? What if I never get to joke with him or show him my science homework or—or tell him I love him. I haven't told him yet, Mom, and I should have. He could have died?—"

Destini's shoulders shook, and Jewel pulled her into her arms, holding her tight as she stroked her wet hair.

Jewel shook too, and she couldn't blame it on a flare-up. Destini had spoken her own fears out loud, identifying them quicker than Jewel ever would have.

Destini sobbed. "He just... he didn't hesitate. Just ran inside, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I was hyperventilating. Completely frozen. I've never been so scared in my life."

Jewel's hand instinctively reached out, finding Destini's. Her fingers intertwined with her daughter's, feeling the lingering tremors of fear.

"The entire time he was inside, I couldn't breathe. All I could think was—what if he doesn't come out? What if he dies trying to save someone else?"

The raw vulnerability in Destini's voice was something Jewel rarely heard. Her daughter, usually so guarded, was revealing her deepest fears.

Destini shuddered, drawing in a deeper breath. "When he came out, the fire trucks and ambulances arrived, loud and chaotic. The paramedics wanted to check him out, wanted to take him to the hospital, but he refused. All he cared about was getting us home safe."

The last words hung in the air—a testament to Chase's character, to his protective instincts. Jewel waited, her heart racing, knowing there was more to the story.

"He started talking on the drive home," Destini said, her voice shifting. "About his time in prison. Things I never knew before."

Jewel felt her muscles tense. Chase rarely discussed his past, especially with Destini.

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