“Then who,”I growl, leaning in close enough that she flinches, “took her?!”
She shakes her head desperately.“I don’t know. But we’ll cooperate. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. Just, please, tell me she’s okay.”
“I don’t knowif she’s alive,” I say in a deadly tone.
The raw honestyof it makes Dr. Madsen collapse into a chair. I don’t comfort her. I’m already walking away, barking orders at anyone who is in my direct path.
Ten minutes later,Bjorn arrives after securing Grace safely with her father, followed by the arrival of the other brothers fifteen minutes later. Nurses scatter as we move down the corridor like a wolf pack. Security footage loads. And then time stops.
She’s on camera, walking through the clinic's doors. She walks toward the hallway, toward the private patient rooms. And then, she vanishes. No image of her walking out. Just gone.
A glitch?No. Someone wiped the footage. Someone removed the part where she disappeared. Leif exhales shakily. Bjorn curses under his breath.
My voice sounds like gravel.“She was taken.”
Everyone falls silent. “She was taken,”I repeat. “And she was taken inside this building.”
Dr. Madsen triesto speak again, but Bjorn steps forward. “You’re shutting this clinic down,” he says calmly. “Today. Permanently. If you value your medical license, you will cooperate.”
“This isn’t fair.”
“You hired Dr. Rhys,”I snarl. She flinches like I struck her.
“We didn’t know.”
“You hired Dr. Rhys,”Bjorn repeats, his voice like winter. “And now one of ours is missing.”
The lawsuit is draftedbefore we reach the parking lot. Endangerment. Negligence. Improper hiring protocol. Failure to protect patients. Failure to report fraudulent medical credentials. Suspicious activity in patient communication logs.
The clinic will burnin court, but that doesn’t bring Claire back to me.
When I returnto our home, Grace rushes to the door, hands on her belly, eyes wide with fear. I am surprised to see her there, yet when her father steps out from the bathroom, I realize that Bjorn must have texted her dad, asking him to bring Grace to him. I don’t blame Bjorn for wanting to keep her as close as possible.
“Erik,please tell me you found her.”
I can’t even formthe words. Grace covers her mouth, tears spilling instantly. Bjorn pulls her into his arms, cradling her as if she were porcelain.
“She’s not safe here,”I say tightly. “Lock your doors. Don’t leave your penthouse for any reason.”
A midwifeand doula arrive an hour later, hired by Bjorn with terrifying speed. Grace protests at first, but then she looks at me, really looks, and whispers, "You look like someone ripped half your soul out.”
They did.They took Claire. They took my heart and caged it somewhere I can’t reach.
I go into the bedroom to breathe. But breathing hurts. Every inhale feels like glass shards digging into my insides.
I don’t cry. I haven’t cried since I was twelve years old. But when I walk into our room… When I see the pajama shirt she left on the bed… When I smell her perfume on her pillow… I fall to my knees.
My fists are in her blankets. My forehead presses against the mattress. A broken sound escapes me, raw, inhuman, helpless.“Baby girl… please… hold on.”My voice breaks.
“I’m coming.I swear to you. I’m coming.”
In the weeks following,I can't sleep. I barely eat and I don’t stop moving. We tear through phone logs, financial data,and old camera footage from the parking lot. Axel hacks into systems he has no business entering. Bjorn begins to leverage his corporate contacts throughout Houston.
And me?I become something feral. Cold. Sharp. Hungry for answers. I’ve interviewed thirty people. I’ve shaken down two lab suppliers. I threatened a pharmaceutical executive in such a way that he began confessing before I asked a question.
Everyone tellsme the same thing:We don’t know where she is.But I assume they’re lying. Someone knows something. Someone saw something. Someone touched her.And I will find them.
One month in,all I have left is a whisper of her. I speak into the night like a prayer,“Hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming for you.”
