Inside the San Francisco Police Department's reception room, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant. Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting broken stripes of light across the floor.
Luna sat on a bench, clutching the police statement form so tightly her fingertips had turned pale. Beside her, Noah gently patted her hand, murmuring reassurance: "Don't worry. This is just routine. Just tell them exactly what you know. I'll be right here the whole time."
Luna nodded slightly, drawing in a deep breath. Since rushing from the airport last night, she and Noah had only managed three hours of sleep at a nearby hotel before dawn pushed them into the station. The thought that Ethan was now in custody for unlawful detention and Jack was safe brought her a measure of relief. Still, the looming divorce trial gnawed at her—this wasn't just about dividing assets. It was about closing a shattered marriage with justice.
"Ms. Luna Chen, you may come in for your statement now."
The officer's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Rising slowly, she accepted a bottle of warm water from Noah. "Drink this. Don't get too worked up," he said softly, his eyes steady and warm, chasing away the unease coiled in her chest.
In the interview room, an officer set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. His tone was calm. "Ms. Chen, we just need you to describe Jack's unlawful detention in detail. No pressure—just answer truthfully."
Luna sipped the coffee. The heat steadied her. Starting with Jack's frantic call, she carefully recounted his fear, Ethan's threats, and how she had alerted both the police and her lawyer. The officer jotted everything down, occasionally pressing for detail—"Which room was Jack confined in?" "Did Ethan mention specific ways he'd harm him?"—and Luna did her best to recall and answer.
"Last question," the officer said, closing his notebook. "Why do you think Ethan suddenly resorted to illegally detaining Jack?"
Luna paused, then spoke firmly. "Because Jack was willing to testify that Ethan was transferring marital assets. Ethan was terrified of exposure, so he tried to silence him through threats."
By the time she finished, it was nearly ten a.m. Stepping out, she spotted Noah waiting at the end of the hall, holding a breakfast sandwich. He rushed over. "How'd it go? Smooth?"
"Yeah," Luna said, taking the sandwich gratefully. "The officer said my testimony will help a lot with the investigation. Thanks for waiting here the whole time."
"Come on, let's head back to the hotel for some rest. We've got to meet David this afternoon to prep trial evidence." Noah casually took the statement papers from her hand. "You barely slept last night. Try to nap in the car."
Back at the hotel, Luna had just lain down when her phone rang. It was Mia.
"Luna, are you okay? I heard Ethan was arrested last night—I've been worried sick!" Mia's anxious voice spilled through. "The exhibition's fine, don't worry. Tons of visitors today, and a few galleries even want to work with Chen Xi. That's all thanks to you pulling this off!"
A smile tugged at Luna's lips. Warmth bloomed in her chest. "I'm fine, don't worry. Thank you for holding things down. Once I finish here in San Francisco, I'll come back to L.A. and join you."
"Relax, I've got the exhibition covered," Mia assured her. "Oh, and Elena told me yesterday she wants to invest in your Luna Art Studio. She even wants to introduce more resources. When you're back, we'll sit down and map it all out."
Hanging up, Luna felt a swell of gratitude. Divorce had brought endless hardship, but also unexpected warmth—Mia's loyalty, Noah's steady support, Elena's trust, Chen Xi's courage, and encouragement from complete strangers. Those moments of light lit her path forward.
At two p.m., Luna and Noah arrived at David's law office. His desk was buried under files. He pulled out a thick folder immediately. "Here's everything we've prepped for trial—bank records proving Ethan's transfers, Jack's testimony and recordings, Emma's documents exposing the financial fraud, plus proof of your sacrifices during marriage—like the gallery job offer you gave up and records of you managing Ethan's social obligations."
Luna flipped carefully through each page. When she reached a copy of her long-ago promotion offer from a Manhattan gallery, her chest tightened. That had once been her dream—abandoned, but now alive again in another form.
"The trial's set for next Monday afternoon at San Francisco Superior Court," David explained. "Ethan's still in custody, but he'll likely apply for bail. Given the circumstances, approval's unlikely. Expect him to be escorted in."
Noah frowned suddenly. "David, what if Ethan's lawyer questions Jack's credibility? Claims he was coerced?"
"We're prepared for that." David pulled out a recording. "This is Jack's police interview. He clearly states why he's testifying voluntarily and details Ethan's threats. It proves he wasn't coerced."
"What about Emma?" Luna asked. "What if fear makes her back out?"
"She won't." David's smile was calm. "We've secured witness protection. Police will ensure her safety. And she's signed a sworn witness commitment—she's promised to appear."
By the time they finished sorting evidence, it was nearly six. At the door, David patted Luna's shoulder. "Don't be nervous. Our evidence is solid. We've got this. The law will give you justice."
Outside, San Francisco's streetlights flickered on. Noah glanced at her. "Hungry? There's a Chinese place nearby. They serve dishes like your mom used to make."
Luna blinked. "How do you know what my mom's cooking tasted like?"
"You told me in college," Noah said with a soft smile. "Your mom's red-braised pork and sweet-and-sour ribs. Whenever you were homesick, she'd vacuum-pack them and mail them to you. I checked—the restaurant serves both. Thought it might bring you some comfort."
Her eyes stung. She hadn't realized he remembered a throwaway comment from years ago. Nodding, she said softly, "Okay. Let's go."
The restaurant was warm and inviting, lit with golden glow. When the food arrived, the smell hit her instantly—so familiar it pulled her back to her mother's kitchen. She tasted the pork and nearly teared up, childhood memories flooding her senses.
"Good?" Noah asked, watching closely.
"Yeah. Just like Mom's." She smiled, voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you, Noah. You always know how to bring me warmth when I need it most."
Noah set down his chopsticks, looking straight at her. "Luna, I've liked you since the first day we met in college. You were explaining a painting to visitors, wearing that simple white blouse… I've never forgotten it. When you married Ethan, I wished you happiness, even though it hurt. Now seeing you rediscover yourself—it makes me so happy. I want to be with you. Support you. Give you the happiness you deserve."
Luna froze, chopsticks suspended in the air. His confession hit a place in her she'd long kept locked. She had sensed his feelings, but her broken marriage had left her wary of opening up again.
"Noah…" Her voice faltered, but she forced herself to be honest. "I'm grateful for everything you've done. I rely on you. But I'm still not fully out of the shadows of my past. I need time to heal before I can accept something new."
Noah's expression softened into a smile. "I understand. I'll wait. No matter how long it takes."
After dinner, they strolled down a quiet San Francisco street. The night was cool, and Noah draped his jacket over her shoulders. Wrapped in its warmth, she tilted her head back to the sky—stars glittered like scattered diamonds.
"Noah," she whispered, "thank you for waiting. I can't promise you an answer now. But I'll try—I'll try to move on, to accept love again. To accept you."
He stopped, gently taking her hand. "That's all I need. Just being by your side, watching you grow stronger—that's happiness to me."
Back at the hotel, Luna sat by the window, leafing once more through the trial evidence. Looking at Ethan's bank transfers, Jack's recordings, and Emma's falsified reports, she felt no anger now—only calm resolve. She knew next week's trial wasn't just about property. It was about closure. About justice for herself, and for everyone Ethan had wronged.
She texted her mother, Grace: "Mom, the trial's next Monday. We have strong evidence. I'm confident we'll win. After it's over, I'll come to New York and take you to that Western restaurant you love."
Grace replied almost immediately: "My daughter has grown up. I'm so proud of you. Whatever the outcome, you'll always be my pride."
Tears spilled from Luna's eyes. No matter what happened, her mother would always be her anchor.
That night, sleep wouldn't come. Images reeled through her mind—her college self, her hopeful bride self, her devastated self, her busy curator self, Noah's steady gaze. Like a film, her journey replayed.
She knew this path of rebirth was far from over. Next week's trial was only a beginning. She would build her studio, champion women artists, and—maybe—open her heart to Noah.
Outside, stars still burned bright. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, falling across her bed. Closing her eyes, she smiled faintly. Tomorrow would be new. And her future—like the night sky—would shine brighter and brighter.
The glow of this trial's eve had already lit her path. And she would walk it boldly, toward the future that was hers alone.