[Dante]
"What? What do you mean?"
The words came out sharper than I intended, but I was already sitting upright in bed, a frown spreading across my face.
The voice on the other end of the phone was calm and professional. My private hand—a detective, fixer, dirt-digger, whatever label fit best—never wasted a breath. He said Bianca had booked a flight for this morning but never showed. No record of her boarding. No trace of her at the airport after check-in.
I rubbed at my temples, trying to process, but he wasn't finished.
He went on about the accident. The truck. The one that had rammed into my car that evening when Bianca was with me. Turns out it hadn't been an accident at all.
The driver cracked under pressure, said he'd been paid to shadow my vehicle and hit us when given the ch
