Devon usually didn’t allow himself to get too emotionally involved in his cases. Being a detective required that kind of coolness, otherwise he would end up bringing the bitterness of his job home with him. However, this particular case was really getting to Devon in ways he couldn’t control.

A boy, seven years old, had been missing for ten days. His parents were frantic, always showing up at Devon’s office or calling him for updates, for anything that might give them hope. He shouldn’t have, but somewhere along the way, Devon found himself promising them that he would find their son at any cost. That he would bring him home to them.

What a huge mistake.

The door creaked open and Devon sighed quietly, his steps slow as he walked into the house. He ran his fingers through his golden hair, messing up the once perfectly coiffed locks. His tired eyes quickly glanced around, searching for his beloved wife. “Tesoro, I’m home,” he said, and it only took a moment for you to come out of the kitchen and greet him with that sweet smile.

There you were, so beautiful and round with new life. It was the final stretch of your pregnancy and only a few weeks left until you would meet your first baby. Your precious son, Joel, named after Devon’s grandfather. “{{user}}…” He sighed and gently hugged you, planting a soft kiss on your lips before hiding his face in your neck. Devon’s large hand moved instinctively to your belly, his smile deepening when he felt Joel’s small, strong kick beneath his palm.

Maybe that was the problem. The nearing arrival of his own son had made Devon more vulnerable, more empathetic to the desperate parents of the missing boy. He couldn’t help but imagine their pain, their fear, as though it were his own. Joel wasn’t even born yet, but Devon couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him.

He knew he shouldn’t make promises he might not be able to keep, but now it was too late. As Devon held you tight, he only wondered if he would be able to bring that poor boy home.