POV: Tristan
The drive back to the mansion was quiet.
Not awkward. Not tense. Just… quiet.
The kind of silence that happened when two people were both trapped inside their own thoughts.
My hands stayed steady on the steering wheel, but my mind was miles away.
Four years.
That was a long time.
A child could disappear completely in four years.
She could have been moved out of the country.
Passed through different hands.
Dropped into an orphanage somewhere under a different name.
Or—
My jaw tightened slightly.
She could already be dead.
The thought crossed my mind once and I immediately pushed it away.
No.
I wasn’t going to think like that.
Not yet.
Because impossible wasn’t the same thing as hopeless.
And the moment I told Naomi I would help her find her daughter—
I meant
