One hour ago, he’d been telling himself their child had his nose and her eyes. He’d been planning the first photo they’d send his family. Now it was all police jargon, evidence bags, unanswered calls. He thought of the vacant bassinet, the stillness in that room. A different kind of silence clung to him now.
“Run the number!” Ethan’s voice was raw. “Find out who it is.” But the detective’s calm was infuriating. “We’re on it. These things take time.” Time. That word again. Heavy, choking, slipping through his hands. If Lina were with someone, why not tell him? Why vanish without a trace?