My blood goes from cold to violent in half a second.She wouldn’t leave without it.
I should wait for the police.
But I can’t.
I need to find her.
I move through the room like I’m hunting, my eyes taking inventory.
Then I notice a scuff mark on the floor.
I silently move through the house, my ears straining for any noise. But it’s silent.
I inhale slowly, forcing my lungs to work.
Then I catch a glint of silver on the floor by the door between the house and garage.
I pick up the earring, my fingers careful, like touching it will break whatever hope is still inside me.
A sound hits the air. My entire body goes still—until I realize it’s the refrigerator.
Swallowing hard, I return to the kitchen. Heading to the knife block on the counter, I pull one free.
I look down at her phone. My throat tightens so hard it hurts.
I swallow the fear and do the only thing that matters. I hitFind My iPhone.
I type her passcode without thinking. I know it because I know my girl. I’ve seen her type it, knowing it was my birthday. Because she’s as obsessed with me as I am with her.
The map loads.
For one glorious second, my chest loosens.
No location found.
“No,” I whisper, the word raw.
My phone buzzes with a text. I grab it, my pulse racing.
Elliott: Possible locations:
Reeves Family Holdings (most likely)
Maple Ridge Rental (prior incident)
Storage Unit (LLC)
Lakehouse (inactive utilities)
Workshop behind Reeve Farms (isolated)
My eyes lift automatically to the kitchen window, staring at the tree line beyond the yard.
If he didn’t go far… then Ivy is nearby.
I step outside, close the door behind me, and call 911 again. “This is Sebastian Locke,” I say. “I’m at the residence. There are signs of struggle. I found her phone and a personal item. She’s not here.”
“I told you not to go inside,” the dispatcher sounds annoyed. “Officers are en route.”
