Page 49 of Tracking Wolfe

My mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

“I figured JJ would have told you by now. But maybe it’s because he bet against you. Doesn’t want you to think about it, probably.”

I wanted to be angry with JJ for not mentioning it, but then again, I would have dismissed him out of hand if he had.

“Derek would lose his mind,” I pointed out. “If the two of us ever…”

I heard him shift in his chair. “Mm, hold on. Let me go back to the part… I said something about… oh, here it is. I’m remembering now. We trust he’s a grown-ass adult who understands risk and can handle hard things, Trace.”

I groaned. “You make that sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” he said, suddenly sounding more serious. “I get that you can love someone and not make it work. But you sure as shit can’t make it work without trying. If you want something badly enough, isn’t it worth at least making an effort?”

“How do I tell him I know his secret?” I asked, because even I knew a relationship couldn’t be built on a lie.

“Well, I think you start by making sure you’re over your Derek hang-up, which means getting over your Derek hang-up. And then I think you let him know you’re on his side. That if you had to choose between him and his dads, there’s no question who you’d choose.”

Fuck.

There already wasn’t a question.

I’d choose him every time.

I’d known it from the moment I kissed him today. Hell, from the moment I’d decided I needed to see him, even though Jude and Derek had told me to go home.

But finally admitting it to myself was revelatory.

Gabe sighed. “And then you tell him that his secrets are safe with you. Everyone wants to be seen by the person they love, Trace. Whether they realize it or not.”

It was a stretch implying I was the person Wolfe loved like that, but I got his point. “Okay.”

“And when you finally tell him you figured it out,” Gabe continued, “maybe also tell him to stop recording videos with personal objects in them? I’ve spent hours trying to file the serial numbers off his fucking posts, man. It’s impossible.”

I couldn’t help a huff of laughter. “I recognized the SERA hoodie in one of the videos,” I admitted. “Thank god the logo’s not visible.”

“Who do you think removed it? Fuck.” I heard something beeping in the background, like a timer. Gabe sucked in a breath. “Okay, man, I gotta go. Do hard things, alright? Later.”

The call ended abruptly. I blew out a breath and glanced back at Fletcher Coe’s Instagram feed, playing the most recent video one more time.

I’m letting go of who I’ve been,

Like a stone I don’t have to carry⁠—

But even in all this open…

I’m still chasing something I can’t hold.

Yeah, even in all this open…

I’m still chasing something I can’t hold.

So I throw the rock with all my might

Into the watercolor morning…

His hands moved swiftly over the strings, pulling out an acoustic melody I would put on auto-replay if it weren’t a social media post.

I went to the internet and typed in Who Is Fletcher Coe before thousands of results flooded the screen. Reddit posts and salacious articles. Twitter rumors and long, stacked Threads posts with multilayered conspiracies.