Too many people.Too many places for a seven-year-old to disappear.
Too many ways to lose what little family I have left.
"She was right here," I say, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears."She was right fucking here."
"We'll find her," Mia says firmly, but I can hear the tremor in her voice."You take the marina, I'll check the shops."
Thirty minutes of searching feels like thirty hours.
Every blonde head in the crowd makes my heart stop, every child's voice that isn't Isla's makes my chest tighten.
I'm calling her name and trying not to think about sailing accidents and how quickly everything can disappear when you're not watching carefully enough.
My phone buzzes with a text from Mia.
Check Club Nautique.Doorman says a little girl charmed her way past security.
I run.
I find them in the club's main lounge—Isla perched on a leather armchair like a tiny queen, regaling what appears to be half of Monaco's billionaire population with stories about Captain Feathers' artistic career.
"And then he painted the WHOLE salon!"she's explaining to a fascinated audience that includes my newest friend Connor Reeves and his wife Ariana."Mia says it's called abstract expressionism!"
"Isla," I breathe, crossing the room in three strides and pulling her into my arms.
"Uncle Roarke!I was telling everyone about our adventures!"
"You can't just wander off like that," I say into her hair, my hands shaking slightly."You scared me."
"I'm sorry.I just wanted to see the big boats, and the nice man said I could wait here for you."
Behind me, I hear Mia talking to Connor and Ariana, her voice bright and professional despite the panic I know she just experienced.
But when I finally release Isla and turn around, I see the telltale signs of stress around her eyes.
"Everything alright?"Connor asks, approaching with Ariana.
"Fine," I manage."Just a temporary misplacement of cargo."
"Cargo?"Isla pouts."I'm not cargo!"
"Very valuable cargo," Mia amends, but her smile is strained.
Twenty minutes later, we're back on the yacht.
Isla is happily settled in her cabin with Captain Feathers and a new coloring book, completely unaware of the terror she just put us through.
I find Mia—dark-haired and still—sitting on the stern deck, staring out at the harbor with her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that's gone cold.
"She's fine," I say, settling beside her.
"I know."But her voice breaks slightly."I just...for a minute there, I thought I'd lost her.That I'd failed her the way I..."She stops, shaking her head.
"The way you what?"
"Nothing.It's nothing."
But something about her tone, the way she's holding herself so carefully frozen, makes me look closer."Mia."
