Chapter 235 centers on a deeply emotional dialogue between Saint and Marty Tooms, focused on the haunting memory of Callie Montrose. As their conversation unfolds, Tooms appears emotionally unravelled, unable to mask the pain he still carries. Saint watches quietly as he attempts to speak, his voice cracking while his eyes brim with grief. He confesses to feeling powerless during the tragic night Callie experienced complications from her pregnancy—an event that left scars he never quite healed from. Though he had no medical training, he still blames himself for not doing more. The guilt, wrapped in helplessness, has sat with him for decades. His trembling hands tighten when he recalls the moment he realized he was losing her, and nothing he did could change that outcome. Each word he speaks is steeped in regret, but also in enduring love.

As Tooms continues, the memory of Callie is treated with reverence, as if she were still present in the room. He shares that Callie had confided in him about the assault she suffered—how her own father had violated her trust and body. The revelation doesn’t come as a shock to Saint, but it chills her nonetheless, a painful confirmation of what she already suspected. Tooms admits he never told Nix the truth, not because he didn’t trust him, but because he didn’t want to destroy him. Keeping secrets became a form of protection—not only for Nix, but for the memory of Callie. It wasn’t about hiding shame, but preserving dignity. Saint listens without interruption, her own heart growing heavy with the knowledge of what was done and the silence that followed. The complexity of Tooms’ loyalty cuts through the air like a blade.

Tooms’s choice to remain silent about Callie’s father—Richie—was both selfless and punishing. He explains that he once wrote to Richie, warning him that the peace he sought would never arrive. The letter was never a threat in the traditional sense, but a promise that justice, in some form, would follow him. Saint senses the fury that still lingers beneath Tooms’s gentle demeanor—a quiet rage that justice had never fully come. This injustice, rooted in a town that turned a blind eye, now sits between them as they speak. Marty does not wish to redeem himself through confession; he simply wants someone to remember the truth. For decades, he has carried this story alone, fearing what might happen if it were ever spoken aloud. Now, with Saint, he finds a small sliver of relief.

In her silence, Saint doesn’t just offer comfort—she provides something more valuable: belief. She realizes Tooms isn’t looking for forgiveness; he only wants Callie to be seen and remembered for who she was, not the tragedy she became. Saint’s thoughts drift to her daughter, Charlotte, and how history often repeats through silence and secrecy. The parallels are painful. She wonders if protecting someone by hiding the truth ever actually keeps them safe. The price of silence, she’s learning, can span generations. And yet, Tooms’s actions were never selfish; they were shaped by love, regret, and the instinct to shield others from harm. His heart, though battered by memory, remains anchored to Callie’s name. That loyalty resonates with Saint.

As their conversation draws to a close, the emotional toll is etched on both their faces. In a moment of quiet connection, Saint leans forward and places a hand on Tooms’s shoulder. There are no dramatic declarations, no promises of redemption—just a shared understanding of loss and loyalty. The embrace that follows is brief but deeply human, an acknowledgement that trauma binds people in ways words cannot. The emotional weight of what has been revealed lingers, and in it, a fragile bond takes shape. Saint feels the weight of history settle around her shoulders, and she knows that this moment will remain with her for the rest of her life. The chapter closes without fanfare, but its quiet intensity speaks volumes. In a world full of noise, some truths are whispered—and still, they echo the loudest.