Contained.
But for all their rigidity, for all the times I’d felt boxed in by their expectations, they were not cruel people.
They were not heartless.
They would want to know Sabine.
They would want to hold her. To hear her laugh. To argue about whether she had Rose’s stubbornness or Étienne’s calm. My mother would buy her books immediately. My father would pretend to be reserved and then soften the second she took his hand.
They would be stunned.
Hurt.
Confused.
But they would love her.
And right now, they didn’t even know she was missing.
I fumbled for my phone instinctively, the urge to call them rising like panic.
Mom would answer on the first ring. She always did when it was me calling from abroad.
“Ella? Is everything all right?”
How would I even begin?
Hi, Mom. Surprise, you have a granddaughter. She’s five. Rose never told you. And now she’s been taken from school.
The words tangled in my throat before I could even imagine saying them.
There was too much to explain. Too much context missing. I didn’t even fully understand what was happening yet.
Calling them now would only detonate something I couldn’t control from thousands of miles away.
My mother would spiral. My father would try to take command from a continent away. Flights would be booked. Accusations would fly. And if this resolved quickly, it would be chaos for nothing.
I couldn’t afford chaos. Not right now. Not when every ounce of clarity mattered.
I lowered the phone back into my lap.
I would tell them. I would tell them everything. But not until I knew Sabine was safe. Not until I could say the words without my voice breaking.
The rain kept coming, relentless, drumming against the glass.
We were moving fast. But it still didn’t feel fast enough.
Kane’s phone vibrated in his hand.
He glanced at the screen.
Ellsworth.
He answered right away.
“Yes.”
His voice changed when he was speaking to Ellsworth. It became narrower. Focused to a point.
