Grace's POV
Two hours later, I stood in our bathroom, staring at my reflection. I'd chosen a simple black dress, it was modest, nothing that would draw attention. My hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, makeup minimal.
I looked the part of the grieving sister, though the woman staring back at me looked more like someone preparing for an execution. I was acting like I had done something wrong, which was stupid. The thing that had me most worried was the police thinking Hunter had done something.
Hunter appeared in the doorway, immaculate in one of his dark suits. Our eyes met in the mirror.
"Ready?" he asked.
"No, but we have little choice."
The drive to the station was tense, neither of us speaking much. Quinn met us outside, her expression serious as she assessed us both.
"Reme
