“Yes.”
Boone’s gaze flicks to Rose. “You sure it’s her?”
Rose nods hard. “I really do think it’s her. Why would anyone else do this?”
Boone doesn’t hesitate. That’s what I love about him. About all my brothers, even when they drive me insane. When it matters, they move.
He turns and yells, “Nash! Clay! We’re going to get Faith back.”
Within seconds, boots thud overhead. A door slams. Nash barrels inside, half-zipped jacket, hair sticking up, eyes wide.
Clay follows, quieter but no less alert, his hands already tugging on gloves.
“What’s going on?” Nash demands.
Boone holds up the phone.
Nash reads.
And his face goes pale in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Damn,” he whispers. Then louder, “We’re going. Right now.”
Clay’s expression hardens into sharp and cold.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“City,” I say. “Her dad’s office address is tagged to the account.”
Clay’s mouth tightens. “How far?”
“Couple hours,” Boone says automatically, already calculating routes.
My mother cuts through from the doorway.
“Dallas.”
I turn.
Mom stands there in her housecoat, hair braided, face composed but eyes fierce. She must’ve heard my shouting.
“What’s happened?” she asks, though her gaze tells me she already knows.
I swallow hard. “Faith messaged Rose. She wants out. She’s scared.”
For one second, Mom’s composure cracks. Relief flickers across her face so fast it’s almost pain.
Then it settles into steel.
“Then you go,” she says.
Rose steps forward, wringing her hands. “Maggie, I?—”
Mom reaches out and cups Rose’s cheek gently, wiping the tear with her thumb. “You did the right thing, honey.”
Then she looks back at me. “Call Sheriff Carson. Tell him what you have. Don’t go in blind.”
My chest tightens.
