Chapter 35
Miles was on his way up.
Dante flew through the apartment in a controlled panic, grabbing anything that could indicate a child lived here. Rhysand's coloring book and crayons from the kitchen counter—into his bedroom. The booster seat—same place. Small shoes by the door—bedroom. Rhysand's jacket hanging on a hook—bedroom. The children's books stacked by the couch—bedroom.
He swept through like a tornado, gathering every piece of evidence, every hint of Rhysand's existence, and depositing it all in his own bedroom. Then he locked the door from the outside with the spare key he kept for emergencies and pocketed it securely.
He turned off the stove where Rhysand's lunch had been cooking, dumped the pan in the sink and covered it with other dishes to hide it. He grabbed the plat
