I didn’t sleep after the video nor a blink or a breath of peace. Just the image of Desmond’s face frozen in the daycare’s grainy surveillance footage, the way he loomed outside the fence like he was waiting for a cue and he already believed Nova belonged to him.
I paced the cramped space above the bookstore, the floor creaking beneath every step. My phone sat on the window ledge, screen dark, lifeless until, sometime after midnight, it lit up with a voice note from Noah.
“She’s here with me sleeping. I locked the doors, set the alarm. Grace, I know this is terrifying… but we’re going to keep her safe. I promise.”
I listened to it twice then I didn’t listen again.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him, I did but belief felt too fragile now like if I touched it, it would splinter in my han
