POV: Tristan
The trafficking files spread across my desk looked exactly the same as they had yesterday.
And the day before that.
And the day before that.
I leaned back slightly in my chair before picking up another file.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The pages felt familiar now.
Names.
Dates.
Locations.
Photographs.
Statements.
I had gone through every single one so many times I could practically recite some of them from memory.
Yet I still hadn't found what I was looking for.
A clue.
A lead.
Anything.
My eyes drifted toward the photograph clipped to one of the files.
A missing child.
Not Naomi's.
But somebody else's child.
Somebody who disappeared and was never found.
I rubbed my jaw slowly.
The deeper I dug into these cases, the uglier everything became.
It was li
