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I must try everything before going down a route that may cause more trouble for Rosalie - her mother.
The rain pelts down on me as I continue my search for Rosalie, the cold droplets soaking through my clothes and chilling me to the bone.
My face is flushed from frustration and exhaustion, but I refuse to let it show.
I've already tried her favorite haunts, so I decide to take a riskier approach – asking around.
"Have you seen Emily?" I demand, cornering a low-ranking member of my family in an alley.
He's clearly terrified of me, and I can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at that.
At least, this way, I know he won't lie to me.
"E-Emily? No, I ain't seen her," he stammers, his eyes darting nervously between me and the exit.
"But I heard some guys talking about a girl fitting her description being spotted at this underground club – The Serpent's Den."
"Where is it?" I growl, my patience wearing thin.
"Uh, it's over on 45th Street, hidden behind an old laundromat," he answers quickly, eager to escape my wrath.
"Thanks," I mutter before releasing him, barely giving him a second glance as he scurries away.
The Serpent's Den is a seedy place filled with shady characters and an air of danger.
As soon as I walk in, I can feel the tension in the room, people watching me warily.
But at this point, I don't care.
All that matters is finding Rosalie.
"Hey," I call out to the bartender, leaning against the counter.
"Looking for a girl – stark grey eyes, about this tall." I hold up my hand to indicate her height.
"Seen plenty like that," he replies gruffly, wiping down a glass. "Gonna have to be more specific, pal."
"Her name's Emily or Rosalie," I say through gritted teeth, my hands clenching and unclenching.
"Nope," he says.
"Damn it!" I slam my fist against the counter, the sound echoing throughout the room.
The few patrons still lingering glance my way, but I pay them no mind.
Rosalie consumed my thoughts – where she could be, who she's with, and why she left without telling me about the baby.
My body trembles with a mix of anger and fear, sweat dripping down my brow despite the chill outside.
As I retract from the counter, my vision blurs momentarily, and I realize just how much this relentless search is taking its toll on me.
But I can't stop now – not when Rosalie's and our unborn child's safety is at stake.
"Alright, Felix. Keep it together," I whisper to myself, forcing myself to breathe deeply and steady my shaking hands.
"You'll find her. You have to."
With that, I leave the club and continue my desperate search, each step fueled by determination and a growing sense of urgency.
