CORINNE
My hands were still shaking when I circled my desk and yanked my phone out of the drawer. I almost dropped it. Twice. I unlocked it anyway, thumbs clumsy, pulse loud in my ears, and went straight online like instinct knew where to run before my brain caught up.
Search bar. His name. Mine. The company. Old cases. Anything.
Nothing.
No headlines. No sudden resurfacing of my name where it didn’t belong. No Nathan Caldwell dragging ghosts back into the light. I jumped from site to site, refreshed feeds, scrolled until my eyes burned. Still nothing. The quiet should’ve calmed me. Instead it made everything worse.
I leaned back in my chair with my head hurting.
“He doesn’t know where I am,” I said out loud, testing the words like they might fall apart if I didn’t hold them careful
