Fatally Yours

Chapter 62

•INDIANA•

It had been five long, grueling days, and Hailey was still missing. No ransom call. No leads. Nothing.

Every passing hour felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of just how powerless I was to bring her back. The exhaustion was eating at me, the kind of bone-deep fatigue that made even breathing feel like an effort.

My mind was on the verge of crashing—my sister was gone, and for the first time, the terrifying thought crept in: What if I've lost her for good?

But I refused to give in to it. I couldn't. I wouldn't. Hailey was out there somewhere, and until I found her, giving up wasn't an option. 

The team had been running in circles for days. We tried to retrieve the CCTV footage from the mall where Hailey had disappeared, hoping it might give us even a glimpse of her abductors or what direction they'd gone.

But, of course, the store manager decided to play by the book, refusing us access until we presented a warrant. 

I thought about the moment I stood in that office, fists clenched, barely holding myself back from screaming at the man. We'd rushed to the courthouse, only to find out the judge we needed for the warrant was on leave.

A two-day wait turned into another endless torment, while every tick of the clock felt like sand slipping through my fingers.

I wanted to smash something—break anything—because every second wasted could've been the second we needed to save Hailey. 

Today, the judge was finally back, and Keith, along with a few officers, had gone to retrieve the warrant and secure the footage. I sat in my office, agitated and restless, unable to focus on anything except the suffocating silence.

My leg bounced uncontrollably as I stared blankly at the desk, fingers tracing the edge of a file that I hadn't opened in days. 

For the thousandth time, I wondered where Hailey was. If she was scared. If she was being hurt. The very thought made my stomach twist, bile rising in my throat. 

I slammed my hand on the desk and stood abruptly, pacing the small space of my office. Outside, the precinct buzzed faintly with activity, but it all sounded muffled to me—like I was underwater.

I turned my head to the window, watching the world outside move as if nothing was wrong, and my fists clenched involuntarily. 

In the back of my mind, there was still the strange, nagging fact that my uncle—the chief—was missing. No one had heard from him for over a week now. His phone went straight to voicemail, and all attempts to track him down had led to dead ends. 

"It's not new," Sergeant Cruz had said yesterday with a shrug. "The chief likes to disappear for a while. Probably drinking martinis with his golf buddies somewhere in Calabasas." 

Maybe Cruz was right.

My uncle had a habit of going off the radar, always brushing it off when he returned like it was no big deal. But this time, it felt different.

The timing couldn't have been worse, and the silence surrounding him felt ominous. 

I sighed heavily, forcing myself to sit back down. My phone sat idle on my desk, and I kept glancing at it, praying for it to ring with good news. I hadn't slept in two days, and every shadow, every creak in the building, felt amplified. 

"Come on, Keith. Hurry up."  I muttered to myself.

Every second dragged on endlessly as I stared at the office door, waiting for Keith to walk in with something—anything—that would lead me back to Hailey.