Roman’s POV
I hadn’t slept in Fourty Eight hours.
Not really. Just short, useless blinks in the car. Long enough to see her face behind my eyelids. Long enough to wake up choking on air.
Her phone still in my jacket pocket. Cracked. Silent.
Like her.
Alex sat beside me in the passenger seat, eyes red, tapping on his laptop. We’d parked in front of a third gas station, one of dozens we’d stopped at in the last two days.
“I’m going to need another Red Bull,” he muttered, dragging his hand through his hair. “And maybe a priest.”
I didn’t respond.
Because if I opened my mouth, I’d scream.
Just then my phone rang.
Her name lit up the screen Ari’s Mom
I stared at it like it might explode.
Then I answered.
“Roman?” Her voice broke before she could finish my name.
“I’m here,” I said,
