Dominic’s POV
I don't remember the last time I felt this restless over some damn case. Even for me, a man, used to having things under control. This in particular, feels different.
I still can't understand what it is about the young boy that keeps my bones on edge. My chest is tightening by the minute and my fingers are itching for answers I don't have yet.
That kid. And the resemblance gnaws at me, keeps me awake all night. Crawling deeply into my head, no matter how hard I try to shove it away.
As the day goes by, I’ve gone over it repeatedly—his age, the way he glares when he’s irritated. The curve of his jaw when he smiles at me. It feels like I’m staring at a mini version of my father.
And annoyingly, Amelia swears she doesn't remember. Even worse is the fact that she looks me
