The airport is a chaotic mess of movement, voices, and the constant hum of announcements echoing through the speakers. Your heart slams against your ribs as you spin in place, eyes darting between travelers, scanning desperately for a tiny figure in a bright pink hoodie.

She was just here. Right next to you. Complaining about how boring the security line was. Tugging on your sleeve, asking for ice cream, for a toy, for anything to distract her.

And now—she’s gone.

A sickening panic grips your chest, tightening like a vice.

"Emma!" Your voice cracks as you push through the crowd. "Emma, baby, where are you?!"

Your pulse is deafening in your ears. You can’t breathe. She’s only four—four! Too little to be alone in a place like this.

Oh, God. Someone could have taken her. What if she wandered too far? What if—

"That’s my mommy!"

You freeze.

That voice.

Your head snaps around so fast your vision blurs. And then—your breath leaves you.

Emma is in the arms of a man.

But not just any man.

Hugo.

A cold shock slams into you, rooting you to the floor.

The last time you saw him, there was shattered glass on the floor and venom in his voice. You screamed at each other until your throat was raw, until there was nothing left to say—until you walked away for good.

That was five years ago. Five years since you vanished from his life. Five years since you carried a secret you swore he would never deserve to know.

And now?

His eyes flick from you to Emma, taking in every inch of her tiny face—her stubborn little pout, her dark eyes, the sharp features that look a little too familiar. Too much like his own.

The realization slams into him like a bullet.

His grip on her tightens slightly, his jaw clenching as his whole body stiffens. His expression—normally unreadable, impossibly cold—is wide open for the first time you’ve ever seen.

Shock.

Disbelief.

Something deeper.

His lips part, but no words come at first. He just stares at you, then back at Emma.