Momentum mattered.
“Drive safe,” Edwardo called.
“Yeah, yeah.”
I didn’t look back. The second I stepped outside, I pulled my phone from my pocket, already dialing.
Timing. Fifteen minutes. Enough for him to finish up. Not enough for anything to shift.
He answered on the second ring.
“Yeah?”
“Meet me at my house,” I said, heading for my car. “Fifteen minutes.”
A beat. Then, “What’s going on?”
I climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”
And I hung up before he could push.
I drove three blocks out. Waited. Counted to sixty. Then doubled back. When I pulled into the driveway, the house sat quiet. Empty.
I stayed put.
Luke’s SUV rolled up at the curb right on time. Of course he did.
Luke stepped out, shutting his door with a solid thud that carried across the empty street. He was fresh from practice—hair damp and T-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His gaze found me immediately, locking on and missing nothing.
I pushed out of my car and met him at the edge of the driveway.
“They’re gone. Let’s go.” I turned toward the house.
His hand caught my wrist before I made it two steps. “What’s going on? Start talking.”
I stilled but didn’t pull away. “What my mom said the other day about Darren has been bugging me,” I returned, meeting his eyes. “I want to look around, see if I can find anything she’s hiding.”
His grip tightened a fraction. “And you think it’s just sitting there waiting for you to find it?”
“I don’t think she expects me to look.”
That earned me a slow exhale through his nose. Something hardened in his gaze before he released me. “Let’s move.”
I unlocked the door and slipped inside, Luke at my back. The second it shut behind us, the air changed—thick, familiar, laced with coffee and bacon.
Luke didn’t speak. He moved. Straight to the windows. Quick checks. His presence filled the space without sound, locking it down in seconds. “Let’s get moving,” he muttered.
I was already heading upstairs. My pulse picked up, not from fear. From certainty.
Her door stood half open, and I pushed it open the rest of the way.
Everything was immaculate. The bed was made perfectly with a single framed photo of me on her dresser, younger, caught mid-laugh. It was something easy to grab and shove in a bag if we had to leave in a hurry.
Luke stayed near the doorway. “We shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes, less if possible.”
“Yep. I won’t waste time.” I moved to the dresser first. Top drawer. Clothes folded too neatly. I moved fast, careful not to disturb the stacks. Nothing.
Second drawer—scarves. Silk. I checked seams, corners. Empty.
