“You look…” he stops himself.
“I know,” I whisper.
He sets one cup down in front of me, glances at the wall, the papers, the quiet. “So. Walmart.”
I don’t answer.
“They really had nothing?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Not even surveillance?”
“Nothing usable,” I say. “Wrong angle. Wrong day. Wrong everything.”
He exhales and sits. “Okay. Then we pivot. We find another angle.”
“There isn’t one.”
“There’s always one,” he says. “We just haven’t found it yet.”
I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy.
“We’ll call Pierce again,” he continues. “Push the timeline. Re-check the transit cams. If she moved through there once, she can?—”
“She didn’t,” I say quietly.
He stops.
“They checked everything. We chased a ghost.”
The silence sits heavy.
Bishop rubs his hands together. “Okay. Then we regroup. We don’t stop.”
I stare at the floor. “I’m sick of being alone.”
“You’ve got me,” he says. “You’ve got your mom. You’ve got people who aren’t going anywhere.” He hesitates, then adds, “You’ve got Ella.”
Something in my chest finally gives.
“I’m done with Ella.”
He blinks. “What?”
“She came by.”
His brow furrows. “Okay…”
“And she said she knows where Ivy is.”
The air changes. “What?” he says quietly.
“Yeah,” I say. “Just walked in and said it. Like it was a normal thing to say.”
He studies me. “What did she mean?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Didn’t let her explain.”
