“I didn’t make this call.” Cal’s voice is rising now, panic bleeding through. “I was here. My phone was in my pocket. But there’s a call log. Video call. To Parker. Eight minutes long.”
I’m scrolling through my own notifications, looking for anything, any message from Parker, any indication of what’s happening.
Nothing.
I try calling her. Video call first.
It doesn’t connect. Just spinning, loading, then failure.
Voice call.
Straight to voicemail.
“Parker, it’s Jace. Call me back immediately. It’s urgent.”
I hang up, try texting.
Where are you? Call me NOW.
The message sends. Delivered. But no response.
Silas is trying his phone too, his expression going darker with each failed attempt. “Not connecting. Calls going to voicemail. Texts delivering but no response.”
“That’s wrong,” I say, my chest tightening. “Parker always responds. Always. Even if she’s with the boys, she’d at least send a quick text.”
Cal’s typing frantically on his laptop now. “I’m checking the call metadata. Looking for... fuck. FUCK.”
“What?” Charles is moving toward us now, sensing the shift in energy.
“The call was spoofed. It came from my IMEI but it wasn’t from my physical device. Someone cloned my number, my identity, and called Parker pretending to be me.”
The implications hit like a sledgehammer.
“Ryan,” Silas says, his voice deadly quiet. “Ryan spoofed Cal’s number. Called Parker. Told her... what? Told her something that made her trust him. Made her go somewhere.”
“Where?” I demand. “Where would she go?”
“I don’t know!” Cal’s hands are shaking on the keyboard. “I don’t know what he told her. I can’t access the call content, just the metadata.”
Charles is right beside us now, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “What’s going on? What do you mean someone called Parker pretending to be Cal?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Cal snaps. “Someone used sophisticated spoofing technology to clone my phone identity and made a video call to Parker an hour ago.”
“Video?” Charles’s face goes hard. “Deepfake?”
“Has to be. Single face replacement, probably with voice cloning for background audio.” Cal’s still typing. “This is professional-level tech. Not something you cobble together in a basement.”
I’m calling Parker again. Still nothing. Still straight to voicemail.
“Her phone is off,” I say. “Or destroyed. Parker never turns off her phone when the boys are with someone else. Never.”
“Call Sienna,” Silas says suddenly. “Call Sienna right fucking now and ask where Parker is.”
Charles doesn’t question it. Just pulls out his phone and dials.
It rings. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Hey honey,” Sienna’s voice comes through, bright and cheerful. “What’s up?”
