The phone rang. Again.

You picked it up without much thought, the same way you had a hundred times before. Nick sat across the room, half-focused on paperwork, until he noticed the shift in your face.

You didn’t speak—but he could tell. Something had changed.

You hung up, eyes distant. Nick straightened a bit in his chair, watching.

Later, the package arrived.

You walked in carrying the box, setting it down on the desk between you. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t have to. Nick could feel the tension in your shoulders, see the way your hands hovered before opening it.

He leaned in, slow.

Inside—belongings. A sweater. A drawing. A necklace. All from the girl they said was gone.

Nick looked at you, then back at the box. His voice was quiet.

“…We’ll find her.”

Because now, it wasn’t just another case.

Now, it was personal.