Page 45 of Cara

He said dead.

My wife.

Sophie.

The connection drops.

Everything—the fountain outside, the grandfather clock in the hall, the crackling fire in the hearth—falls quiet. Sounds distort in my ears until only the pounding of my heart and my heavy gasps remain.

Dead.

When my failing mind finally catches up with my body, I’ve somehow crossedthe house.

My arms are already submerged in the top drawer of my dresser, shoving my passport into the coat that is draped over an olive-green tweed suit, one of Sophie’s favorites.

Time is warping because I’m back in the parlor in the span of a blink, frantically snatching everything I can find from the safe. A near-painful surge of panic drives my legs through the lifeless corridors into the kitchen to search for essentials. My wallet. Phone. There’s no time to pack or hunt down clothes.

I burst out the front door, clutching only what’s needed, shooting down the steps to the car.

What I don’t expect is to see Bo strolling up the driveway, his motorcycle parked at the gate. “Where are you going?”

“Madrid.”

His mouth falls open. He slams the car door shut before I can get in. “Hold up. What the fuck happened?”

“Let me through.”

“Xavier—”

He doesn’t want to block me. Not right now. I can’t be held responsible for the damage I might unleash.

“Bo, I’m going to Madrid.”

“I'm going with you then.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I need your help here.”

It’s been years since I’ve said those words.Years. I’ve done everything in my power to keep them out of this.

Bo’s gaze sharpens, understanding the significance. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t trust anyone. Let Dario know I’m going off-grid. If anything happens, he takes over.”

Bo yanks my jacket, shaking me violently as I tense up, my heart goddamn thrashing my chest while I struggle to open the door. “Xavier, what thefuck, man!”

“I caved,” I blurt out, heaving. “I called the café. She… She isn’t there. He mentioned police. He said?—”

“Said what?”

“He said she’s?—”

I can’t say the words. Won’t dare to. Judging by the way Bo’s eyes widen to twice their size, it’s clear I don’t need to. “She’s alright, Xavier. She’s okay… You’ll find her.”

As I drop into the driver’s seat and swerve out of the driveway, the consequences of my decisions linger in my mind.

All of the moments I picked up the phone to call that café, aching to hear her voice, only to hesitate. Countless times I ordered them to fuel the jet, only to change our course at the last minute. I drilled the thoughts into myself long enough.

She’s safer without you.