Even as I said it, something heavy settled in my chest. I knew better. Work always came first—for him. And lately, so did whoever he claimed he was working with.
Still, I refused to let his absence ruin her birthday. I kissed her forehead and encouraged her to join the other kids for a bit while I made my rounds, greeting guests and thanking them for coming. Just a few minutes, I told myself. Nothing would happen in a few minutes.
When I turned around again, my heart dropped straight into my stomach.
Sienna wasn’t there.
The air felt too tight to breathe. My eyes raced across the deck—faces, tables, railings—but I didn’t see her curls, her dress, her tiny shoes. Her laughter was gone. In its place, panic surged, hot and terrifying.
“Sienna?” My voice trembled. Louder this time. “Sienna!”
People glanced over, concern flickering across some faces, confusion on others. A few shook their heads. No one had seen her. My knees nearly buckled as I grabbed the railing for support. My baby. My only child. She had vanished.
With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and called Aldrin. The ringing felt endless. Once. Twice. Then—
A woman moaned.
I went completely still.