I spend the next few hours anxiously waiting for Ryker to give me any kind of clue as to where I could find my dad.
Instead of sending a text or even calling, my sweet boyfriend shows up minutes before eleven o’clock strikes.
I am already at the door, asking Ryker for the address when my mom wakes up and walks up to us.
“Something wrong, kids?” She looks awfully tired.
I have yet to tell her about him snapping a picture of the license plate. Call me foolish but I didn’t want to give her hope.
“We have the address of the driver,” Ryker tells her in an excited tone.
I smile at him, not knowing how to thank him, and unable to even begin to comprehend how he could have gotten the address so quickly.
“What address? What driver?” My mom is puzzled - rightfully so, I might add.
“Th
