Mathew Point of View
The project was finally moving, a skeleton of concrete and dust. The builders had poured the slab and were already laying the first course of brick, but Mathew’s mind wasn’t on the job site. It was on a little girl he hadn’t seen in weeks. He hadn’t heard a damn word from Driven, and the silence was starting to feel heavy.
Dangerous, even.
Driven didn’t just go dark unless something was breaking.
The second Mathew cleared his hotel room door, he dropped his keys, sank onto the edge of the mattress, and pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over Driven’s name for a second before he hit dial.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Mathew’s chest tightened. On the fifth ring, the line clicked open.
"Mathew. Hey," Driven’s voice came through, but it sounded hollow,
