I press the phone tighter to my ear. “Send me the coordinates. Now.”
He hesitates. “Vincent, I don’t think you should?—”
The sound of a door slamming explodes behind me.
My body jerks.
Boots slam against the floorboards, scattering clumps of half-melted snow. Cast barrels through the entryway, soaked to the elbows, frost clinging to his jacket. The cold follows himin like a living thing, biting at the air, making the lights seem harsher. His breath comes in fast, white clouds that dissolve as soon as they form.
“Get me the coordinates,” I order, clicking the phone off before the voice on the other end can finish. I’m already moving down the hallway toward the front door, pulse pounding in my throat.
Mrs. Carter rises halfway from her chair, knitting spilling to the floor. “What in God’s name?—”
“Where is she?” Cast’s voice cuts through the quiet like a blade, sharp enough that Elise flinches in her seat, her crayon slipping from her fingers.
I turn toward him, phone still cold in my hand. “Cast?—”
“Where is Willow?” His tone breaks, ragged from running and something deeper—fear, disbelief. His eyes are wide, snow still melting in his lashes. “She’s not at the hospital.”
“What are you talking about?”
He doesn’t answer. Just storms past me, boots pounding up the stairs hard enough to shake the railing. “Willow!” His voice echoes through the hall, desperate, hollow. “Willow!”
Mrs. Carter steps into the doorway, wringing her hands, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “What are you all hollering about? The children can hear you.”
“I’m trying tofigure that out!” I snap, the words sharp, the fear underneath sharper.
Cast appears at the top of the stairs, then bounds down again two steps at a time. His expression is pale and wild, his hands shaking as he grips the banister. Snow glitters in his hair, melting down his temples in cold streaks.
“She’s not here,” he says, voice rough, breaking on the edges. “She’s missing.”
“What do you mean? She is supposed to be with Damien at the hospital with Penny,” I counter.
“She’s not there. S-she went out for a walk after having a panic attack like four hours ago, and no one has seen her since.”
“Dad?” Theo stands in the archway, socked feet sinking into the rug, a blanket slipping off one shoulder. His voice is small, unsure. “What’s wrong? Where’s Mom?”
Mrs. Carter moves fast, wiping her hands on her apron as she crosses to him. Her face softens into something calm, practiced. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart,” she says, smoothing the hair from his forehead. “Mommy just took a quick trip to the North Pole. There’s been a little delay with some Christmas surprises, and she went to help Santa sort it out.”
Theo blinks up at her. “The North Pole?”
“That’s right.” Her smile trembles, but she holds it steady. “She’ll be back before you know it. And while she’s gone, you and I are going to make her some cookies, after we eat some dinner. So she has something warm waiting when she gets home.”
The mention of cookies makes his face brighten, just a little. “Chocolate chip?”
“Of course. The magic kind,” she whispers, brushing the blanket back around his shoulders. “Now, come on, let’s eat some dinner before it gets cold.”
Theo nods, small hand slipping into hers. He looks back once, eyes flicking toward me, searching for reassurance. I manage a tight nod. He takes it, clinging to it like truth.
Mrs. Carter guides him toward the kitchen, her voice lifting just enough to sound like normalcy. “Come on, my love. Santa’s helpers need their sugar tonight.”
She looks over her shoulder, her tone drops to a whisper—raw, shaking, barely holding itself together “Find my daughter.”
The words land like an order.
A faint buzz cuts through the silence. I glance down. My phone vibrates in my palm, the glow flaring bright against thedim hallway. White light spills across my fingers, washing the color from my skin.
Edgar’s message lights up the screen, and I know they’re the coordinates but I can’t bring myself to look at them.
