Page 69 of Her Courage

And in this moment, surrounded by people who cared, I felt something I hadn't in days.

Hope.

Chapter Thirty-Three

KALEB

Istared at my phone, willing it not to ring. Not to buzz. Not to light up with another message from Patrice's lawyer or the DA's office or⁠—

It rang.

My stomach dropped. But when I glanced at the screen, Sierra's name flashed across it instead.

"Hey," I answered, keeping my voice level despite the immediate spike of anxiety. "Everything okay?"

"Keeley's missing."

The world tilted. I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles going white.

"What do you mean missing?" My voice came out sharper than intended. "Sierra, what happened?"

Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush. "I went to pick her up from daycare like always, but they said someone already got her. They said I signed the authorization form, but Kaleb, I didn't—I would never⁠—"

"Slow down." I was already on my feet, grabbing my suit jacket. "When did this happen?"

"Twenty minutes ago. I called the police, but they said since she's with someone on the approved pickup list—" A sob choked off her words. "But I didn't approve anyone! The signature isn't even mine!"

Patrice. It had to be.

My free hand clenched into a fist so tight my nails bit into my palm. That bitch had crossed every line, and now she'd taken my niece.

My two-year-old niece.

"I'm going to fix this," I said, forcing calm into my voice even as rage boiled beneath my skin. "Sierra, I promise you, we're going to bring Keeley home."

"How?" Her voice cracked. "Kaleb, what if she hurts her? What if⁠—"

"She won't." I couldn't let myself think about that possibility. Couldn't let that fear take root. "Patrice wants money, not to hurt Keeley. This is leverage, nothing more."

Even as I said it, doubt gnawed at me. Patrice had already tried to poison us. What other lines was she willing to cross?

"Stay where you are," I instructed, already heading for the door. "I'm bringing Andrei. We'll handle this."

I ended the call and burst into the hallway, nearly colliding with Andrei who was coming out of his office.

"Kaleb?" He took one look at my face and his expression hardened. "What happened?"

"Keeley's been taken from daycare. Someone forged Sierra's signature on a pickup authorization."

Andrei's jaw tightened, but he didn't waste time with questions. He simply pulled out his phone, already dialing as we strode toward the elevator.

"Sergei," he said in Russian the moment the call connected. "We need Mikhail. Now."

I could hear Sergei's voice through the phone—quick, clipped questions that Andrei answered in rapid-fire Russian too fast for me to follow. But I caught the important words: devochka (girl), pokhishchenie (kidnapping), Patrice.

The elevator doors opened. We stepped inside.

"Mikhail's on his way to Sierra's last known location," Andrei said, switching back to English. "He'll track the daycare's security footage, find the vehicle⁠—"