Isabel’s POV
Christine stands before me, her hands neatly clasped behind her back, her tone measured but laced with quiet frustration. “Ma’am, there’s been no progress on identifying the masked man. No leads, no trace—nothing concrete to go on so far.”
I lean back into my leather chair, letting her words hang in the air like a weight I can’t shake off.
The sound of my pen scraping against the smooth surface of my desk breaks the silence, a small action, yet it somehow eases the tension in the room. I focus on that small distraction, letting it calm the ever-growing unease swirling in my mind.
How is it possible for someone to vanish completely, without even a hint, a whisper of where they’ve gone? It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t let it show. Not yet.
I tilt my head slightly, my g
