Verena
A fog of confusion clouded my brain as I set the mug rising with steam back to the dresser. “Why are you asking me about Kian’s whereabouts?” I glanced at Daxton who was on the balcony, busy with a phone call.
Jana shrieked over the phone. “The private investigator we hired traced his last movements to that slum of a neighborhood that you live in!”
Kian was missing? Good for him!
I leaned against the dresser, randomly blowing air to the tip of my fingers while listening as she ranted on and on about how Kian had been missing for a week and five days or thereabouts.
She breathed heavily over the phone and when I figured out that she had stopped talking, I responded. “Are you done?”
“What!” Her tone was clipped.
“If your son is missing, shouldn’t you be filing a missing per
