VINCENZO CASTILLO
It was the third children’s park I’d searched for, and still... Nothing.
No sign of Jeoffrey. No sign of whoever took him.
"Jeoffrey!" I roared, my voice tearing through the late-night air.
My eyes scanned every corner, every bench, every blur of sections in the park, like maybe—just maybe—he’d appear out of nowhere.
But deep down, I knew I was starting to go crazy.
Losing it already.
Three parks down. God knows how many more to go. And this—this-this sick game reeked of Alexandro. What was I even saying?
It could only be him.
I pulled up the photo again, the one that had been sent. There was no use tracing the number—it had been wiped clean. If it were anyone else, I could’ve had them in a choke hold by now. But no—this was personal. This was his way of saying,
