To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 200

"Do you have any connections at the Southside precinct?" Elara asked.

Ryan hesitated, silent for a moment.

"Never mind, just curious," she said lightly.

She was about to hang up when Ryan, after a brief internal struggle, blurted out, "I do. What do you need?"

"I want to see Nanette. Right now," Elara replied.

Ryan realized this was no small request—he was out of bed in an instant.

"Wait for me," he told her.

He made his way to the grand mahogany doors on the third floor and paused, steadying his nerves with a few deep breaths before knocking softly.

It was late; the house was quiet. Zane hadn't even changed out of his pajamas yet. Slate-gray lounge pants fit snugly along his long legs, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, exuding a kind of effortless allure only a man in his prime could carry.

Ryan lowered his gaze respectfully. "Uncle Zane."

Zane regarded him coolly. "What is it?"

"I have a friend. Her family member got into some trouble and is being held at the Northside precinct. She wants to see her."

Zane's voice was flat, unreadable. "I don't do favors. I don't make exceptions for anyone."

Ryan's hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Uncle Zane, please… My friend's in a really tough spot. She's fighting for her life, every step of the way."

Zane's eyes lingered on Ryan's face for a moment before he turned back to his desk. He pulled out a business card, scrawled his name on the back with a flourish, and handed it over.

"Give her this."

With that, he shut the door behind him.

Ryan stared at the card, brow furrowed. How did Zane know exactly who it was for?

Elara had only been waiting outside the police station for a couple minutes when Ryan arrived, accompanied by a senior officer. The officer was all politeness as he escorted them inside.

Elara shot Ryan a questioning look, but he quickly slipped the business card into her hand and whispered, "This is worth more than gold—don't lose it."

A flush crept up Nanette's neck as she struggled to find her footing. Sharp, pointed doubts stabbed at her heart. Since the whole mess began, neither Gareth nor Lina had shown their faces. Not even a text. Not a single word.

"They're probably working on something…"

Elara's tone was cool. "From the moment Lina had you storm into my hospital room, to drugging me, to destroying my reputation—you did everything for her. And now, with you in trouble, did she panic? Did she even ask after you? To her, you're not a mother. You're just a pawn to be sacrificed whenever she sees fit."

"No… Lina's not like that," Nanette choked out, desperately clinging to the last shreds of hope.

But Elara's gaze only grew colder.

"Your husband's about to be a father—again. You're terminally ill. Why would he waste his time on you?"

Nanette's chest heaved, a bitter taste rising in her throat, but she refused to give Elara the satisfaction.

"Ha! You're just trying to drive me mad. It won't work."

Elara tossed a sonogram and a DNA test report—both stripped of Mrs. Archer's name—right onto Nanette's lap.

"See for yourself."