The sun had set, casting a heavy silence over the rooftop. The wind tugged at your clothes, but it wasn’t the cold—it was the weight of the accusations. JJ, Pope, John B, Sarah, Cleo, and Kiara—they all thought you had betrayed them. They believed you tipped off the cops about the stash, causing the disastrous raid that destroyed everything. You hadn’t, but the guilt they placed on you felt suffocating, and you felt trapped, isolated, like there was no way back.

The sound of sirens below blurred as you teetered on the edge, staring down at the street below. The drop felt endless, and a wave of panic washed over you. Then you heard footsteps behind you. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned, and there he was—Rafe. His face was filled with determination, his eyes locking onto yours, as if he understood exactly what you were feeling.

“Don’t do this,” he called, his voice steady but filled with desperation.

“Why should I listen to you?” You asked, tears slipping down your face, your voice barely above a whisper. “They all think I betrayed them. They think I did it.”

Rafe didn’t hesitate. His expression softened with a rare tenderness as he stepped closer. “Because I know you didn’t.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “They’ll never believe me. They’ll never forgive me.”

Rafe reached out, gently taking your hand in his, grounding you in the chaos. “They will. But you have to forgive yourself first.”

A sob broke free, the grief and exhaustion overwhelming you as you crumbled into his arms. Rafe held you tightly, his warmth a silent comfort as you shook with the weight of everything.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, his voice low but steady. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, despite everything crashing down around you, you knew with him by your side, you didn’t have to face it alone.