Logan's hands were trembling on the wheel as he sped through the city. He jabbed at his phone screen, dialing the one person he knew could cut through this nightmare.
"Priya, it's me," he said the moment she picked up. His voice was raw, frantic.
"Mr Kingsley? What happened?" Priya's calm tone was already sharpening into alertness.
"It's Jean. She's gone. Since last night. I've searched the house, the surroundings… nothing. I need you to track her, anything you can find."
There was a short pause before Priya asked, "Did she take her phone? Laptop? Anything connected I can trace?"
The question slammed into him like a wall. Logan's jaw tightened as his mind raced back through the house. The phone… still on the nightstand. The laptop… still in the study. Her purse, her essentials… untouched.
"Nothing," he muttered hoarsely. "She left with nothing, Priya. Not even her damn phone."
For the first time in years, Logan felt utterly helpless.
