Page 11

CHAPTER 11

“You’re all set, Mrs. Rosenthal,” Brooklyn said in a warm tone as she gently removed the protective bib from her elderly patient.

“Thank you, dear.” The older woman’s voice trembled with kindness, and Brooklyn couldn’t help but smile back.

Brooklyn offered her arm to steady Mrs. Rosenthal, helping her ease out of the chair. “Let me walk you up front,” she said, guiding the woman out to the reception desk.

“See you in six months,” Brooklyn called as Mrs. Rosenthal waved and began settling her payment.

As soon as she turned back toward her exam room, Brooklyn’s focus shifted. She had a routine—clean the chair, wipe down the surfaces, and set up for the next patient. It was automatic, a rhythm she’d perfected over the years.

The sharp tone of her cell phone sliced through the quiet hum of the office. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen before answering.

“Hello?” she said, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder while tossing the used disinfectant wipe into the trash.

“Ms. Alexander?”

“Yes.”

“This is Krista Kahana…” The woman on the other end paused as if weighing her words before continuing. “I’m the principal at Mauna Loa Preparatory School.”

Brooklyn’s stomach dropped. The casual grip she had on the phone tightened until her knuckles turned white. “Yes?” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ms. Alexander, when you take a child out of school, it’s mandatory to sign them out with the school office. I understand you’re Liam’s aunt, so you may not be familiar with all of our policies, but we need to ensure everyone follows the procedures. It’s for the safety of all our students.”

Brooklyn’s throat constricted, the words catching before they could form. She gripped the counter with her free hand, trying to steady herself. “I… I didn’t take Liam out,” she said, her voice faltering.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

Her breathing grew shallow as dread tightened in her chest. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I didn’t take Liam out of school.”

There was a long, tense pause on the other end of the line.

“Well, you must have,” Kahana said, her tone laced with confusion. “His English teacher reported him absent.”

The air around Brooklyn shifted, the world narrowing to the sickening truth clawing its way to the forefront of her mind. Her voice, though shaking, grew more resolute. “Mrs. Kahana,” she said carefully, “please call the police. If Liam isn’t in school, it’s because he’s been taken.”

“What?” Krista’s voice rose in clear disbelief.

“Please!” Brooklyn begged, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear. “Call the police right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She ended the call abruptly, her trembling fingers barely able to press the screen. There was no point in lingering on the line; she already knew the truth. Deep down, she felt it—an icy, suffocating certainty.

Liam had been kidnapped.

Her knees buckled as the weight of the realization crushed her. She collapsed onto the small stool by the counter, gripping the edge like a lifeline. The once-familiar surroundings of her exam room blurred into a haze of sterile whites and pale blues.

A rush of panic surged through her, accompanied by a singular thought that cut through the chaos: I have to find him. I have to get him back .

Brooklyn pushed herself upright, her legs unsteady but driven by sheer will. Her heart pounded as she grabbed her bag and rushed for the door, her mind already racing with possibilities.

Somewhere out there, Liam needed her—and she would do whatever it took to bring him home.