The fluorescent lights in the police station buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale sheen over the waiting room.
Harper sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her phone beside her on the metal bench, screen dark. Jacob sat next to her, calm on the outside, but Harper could feel the tension in the way his leg bounced and his fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.
A young officer—Officer Alvarez—led them into a small interview room after a fifteen-minute wait. The space was simple: a desk, two chairs, and a recording sign that lit up when the door closed behind them.
Harper recounted everything. The messages. The change in numbers. The way Ian seemed to know her movements. She handed over her phone, screenshots already saved in a neat folder. Jacob chimed in occasionally to reinforce how persistent and unsettling it had become.
Officer Alvarez nodded thoughtfully as she scrolled through the images.
"I understand how upsetting this is," she said. "And you absolutely did the right thing by coming in. But…"
Harper tensed. She already knew what was coming.
"…technically, this doesn't meet the legal threshold for criminal harassment—yet. Not in this state."
Jacob frowned. "He's contacted her repeatedly after being told to stop. From different numbers."
"Yes, and that's enough for us to document it," Alvarez said. "We're opening a report. We'll have someone reach out to Mr. Mercer and issue an official warning. Make it clear that any further contact—especially if it escalates—could lead to charges."
Harper's voice was low, tight. "So you'll tell him to stop… and that's it?"
"For now," the officer said carefully. "There's no direct threat in these messages. No violence, no trespassing—yet. But we are flagging it, and we'll be monitoring. If he contacts you again after we've issued the warning, it becomes much more serious."
Jacob exhaled sharply. "So he gets a free first round."
Officer Alvarez offered a sympathetic look. "It's frustrating. I know. But our hands are tied until he crosses a line the law can define."
Harper sat back in her chair, hollow.
He already crossed a line.
Just not one you can see on paper.
"We'll call him today," Alvarez added. "He'll know we're watching. That alone scares most people off."
Harper didn't answer. She nodded once, but inside, she didn't believe Ian was the kind of person who scared easy.
Back in the car, Jacob gripped the wheel tightly as he pulled into traffic.
Harper stared out the window, eyes unfocused.
"What now?" he asked quietly.
"We wait," she said. "And hope that being warned is enough."
But she knew it wouldn't be.
Not for someone like Ian.
Not when he still believed this was a love story.