(Author’s POV)
Owen was sitting behind the mahogany desk in his study, the morning light filtering through the tall windows. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the polished surface, a faint sign of his conflicted thoughts. In front of him lay a slip of paper, Amelia’s parents’ number, scribbled in her neat handwriting the night before.
He exhaled slowly, then picked up the phone and dialed. The line rang twice before someone answered, a gruff male voice.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Carson? Amelia’s father?” Owen said calmly, professionally. There was a pause.
“Yes… who is this?” Then the man replied, confused.
“My name is Owen Skylar,” He said, keeping his tone firm yet polite.
“I’m calling regarding your daughter”.
Another long pause. This time filled with disbelief.
“Our daughter?”
