The tracker dot pulsed in place, unmoving, like a heartbeat trapped behind those walls. A pause. Then the dispatcher’s tone shifted—more alert, more careful. “Ma’am, what’s your exact location?” Sarah read it off as best she could: the road name, the turnoff, the distance marker she’d memorized on the drive in.
Eleanor watched the villa and tried not to imagine Rex waking up somewhere he couldn’t understand, legs heavy, head fogged, alone. “Stay where you are,” the dispatcher said. “Units are being sent. Do not approach the property.” Sarah’s jaw tightened. “He’s sedated,” she said. “He can’t protect himself.” “I understand,” the dispatcher replied, firm now.