Ethan’s POV "Think, Ethan! Think!" I barked, slamming my palm against the steering wheel hard enough to make the horn wail briefly.I was racing nowhere fast, and every second ticked like a bomb in my chest. Olivia was out there. Alone. Missing... not quite anyways. And I was sitting here like an idiot, useless, with nothing but a dead phone and fraying nerves to show for it. "Who the hell do I call?" I muttered, dragging my hand through my hair. "The police? And tell them what? That my… what? My what? Olivia wasn’t mine. Never was." I cursed under my breath, tapping the steering wheel rhythmically as I scanned the empty street for answers that weren’t there. "I can't blow this up," I gritted out. "If I make noise, the media will smell blood. She’ll get dragged through the dirt."That wasn’t an option. Not for Olivia. Never for her. I leaned back against the seat, exhaling sharply, when suddenly, like a spark snapping in the dark, it hit me. "Her grandfather," I said aloud, the

Ethan’s POV Eventually, between hiccupped breaths, Mr. Roberts straightened, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand."My God, Will," he gasped, nudging my grandfather with his elbow, "I swear you missed your calling. You should have been an actor." My grandfather chuckled, reaching for his glass of whisky, still struggling to steady himself. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I?" he said between chuckles. "You threw me into the deep end." "Yeah, but you didn’t even blink!" Mr. Roberts howled. "Just slid right into character like a pro. No script. No briefing. Just pure, natural drama." "Are you two done?" I cut in sharply, unable to hide the irritation in my voice anymore. Mr. Roberts looked over, still grinning like a mischievous schoolboy. "Alright, alright," he said, lifting a hand in mock surrender. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Ethan." "Just explain," I said, managing a tight smile I didn’t feel. "Please." Mr. Roberts exchanged a final glance with Grandfather