Page 79 of Second Chance Daddy

We’ve both made mistakes in our own ways.

Sunlight streams through the window like we’ve got all the time in the world. But one glance at the clock says otherwise.

Fuck. We overslept.

“Cass,” I murmur, my hand sliding to her shoulder, her skin warm under my palm, shirt twisted from restless sleep. “Wake up.”

She stirs, eyes blinking slowly, confusion flashing before recognition—and then wariness. Like she’s waiting for the hammer to drop.

I just give her a quiet smile.

“What time is it?”

“Nine-thirty.”

“Nine—” She bolts upright, panic flashing sharp across her face. “Aria’s always up by seven. Always.”

Cassie’s scrambling out of bed. “She should’ve come in by now.”

“I know.” I’m right behind her, heart already picking up speed. “She’s probably downstairs. Cereal’s in the cabinet, and maybe Tina’s entertaining her.”

“Tina doesn’t wake up before noon,” Cassie points out, panic sharpening every word.

I don’t disagree. But I don’t say it either.

Some days you just feel it—the wrongness.

Today’s one of those days.

She always shows up. Cracks the door. Climbs into bed like she owns the place. Calls me Dante, but curls in like I’ve always been Dad.

But this morning? Silence.

We move fast down the hall, checking Aria’s room.

Empty.

“Maybe downstairs,” Cassie says, but her voice wobbles. “Maybe with the housekeeper. Or Tina. Maybe Tina?—”

I’m already taking the stairs two at a time, that hum of danger rising like static.

“Aria?” Cassie calls, her voice cracking. “Baby, where are you?”

The kitchen? Empty.

Living room? Clear.

Library? Quiet as a graveyard.

We don’t hear the one sound we need—the small feet, that laugh, her voice.

“Tina?” Cassie’s voice rises, desperate now. “Are you here?”

Silence.

“Fuck,” Cassie turns to me, pale as paper. “She… she didn’t come home last night. Tina went out with that guy from town.”

I’ve got my phone in hand before she finishes, pulling up the security feed while Cassie tears through the house like a woman possessed.