Every minute that passed without any news of Grace felt like a knife twisting in my gut. My mind raced with thoughts of where she could be, what they could be doing to her. The fear, the guilt, the helplessness—they all ate away at me, gnawing at whatever sanity I had left.
I was pacing in the living room, my fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. Luca stood by the window, his arms crossed, watching me with concern etched into his features. He hadn’t left my side since this whole nightmare started, but I could see the worry in his eyes. He knew I was unraveling, and he wasn’t wrong.
“Luca,” I said, stopping abruptly. My voice was hoarse, raw from the constant shouting and cursing over the past few days. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. I need you to reach out
