Page 158 of His Surrender

I remove my hand from the crib and stand too quickly. The room shifts beneath me for half a second.

I grip the edge of the dresser until it steadies.

“Stop,” I mutter.

Liana stirs at the sound, and I immediately lower my voice.

“I’m sorry.”

I leave the nursery door partially open and walk back into the main room.

It’s 6:48.

I send another text.

Me: Please call me.

The word please looks more desperate than I intended.

I call the front desk.

“Mr. Ledger,” the concierge answers. “How can I help you?”

“Has Aubrey come in?”

He pauses for a moment before he answers, “Not that I’ve seen, sir.”

My stomach contracts. “Can you check the security feed from the last hour?”

There is another pause, longer this time.

“Of course.” I listen to the quiet clicking of keys. “No, sir. I don’t see her entering.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up before he can say anything else.

The room feels too warm. I reach for my tie to loosen it even though I am not wearing one. My fingers find the collar of my sweater instead and pull uselessly at the fabric.

Now it’s 6:52.

I open the location-sharing app on my phone.

Aubrey’s last location appears near Bryant Park from hours earlier.

The small gray note beneath it reads Location Unavailable.

Another image forces itself into my head. A phone lying cracked on a sidewalk. A crowd gathered around something I cannot see.

Red and blue lights reflecting against wet pavement.

I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that pain shoots through my temples.

When I open them again, I am still standing in my living room.

The Christmas tree lights continue blinking.

Dinner is cold, and the apartment is intact.