Chapter 47 Tish
TISH
The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. “What do you mean they’re gone?” My voice comes out as barely a whisper, but the panic threading through it is unmistakable.
The babysitter, a college-aged girl named Emma who loves hockey, wrings her hands nervously.
“I-I put them to bed at eight-thirty like you asked. I checked on them at nine, and they were sleeping. I went to brush my teeth and wash my face, and when I came out…” Tears well up in her eyes.
“Their beds are empty. I’ve looked everywhere in the suite. ”
Carl’s face has gone ashen, his usual composed demeanor cracking. “Krystal,” he breathes, and I can hear the raw fear in his voice.
It’s the same terror that’s clawing at my chest, threatening to tear me apart from the inside.
“We need to search the hotel,” Ash says, immediately taking charge. His protective instincts kick in, and I’m grateful for his steady presence even as my world tilts off its axis. “They can’t have gone far.”
Jake’s already moving toward the door. “I’ll check the lobby and common areas. Maybe they just went exploring.”
But even as he says it, I know it’s not that simple. Becky might be curious, but she’s not reckless.
She wouldn’t just wander off, especially not with Krystal, who’s even more cautious than my daughter.
“The pool,” I gasp, my mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. “What if they went to the pool? What if—”
“Hey.” Carl’s hands are on my shoulders, his blue eyes boring into mine with an intensity that grounds me. “Don’t go there, Trisha. We’re going to find them.”
The way he says my full name, the way his voice wraps around it like a promise, makes something inside me steady slightly.
But the fear is still there, a living thing with claws that dig deeper with every passing second.
We split up to search the hotel.
Carl and I take the upper floors while Jake and Ash cover the ground level and basement areas.
Emma stays in the suite in case the girls return, though she’s crying so hard I’m not sure she’ll be much help.
Every door we check, every empty hallway we walk down, feels like an eternity. My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears, drowning out everything else. Carl stays close to me, his presence both comforting and charged with the same desperate energy that’s coursing through my veins.
“The stairwells,” he suggests, and we check every single one. Nothing.
“The business center,” I say, remembering how Becky was fascinated by the computers earlier. Empty.
We meet back up with Jake and Ash in the lobby, and the grim expressions on their faces tell me everything I need to know before they even speak.
“Nothing,” Jake says, running his hands through his dark hair. “We checked everywhere. Pool area, restaurant, game room, even the parking garage. Hotel security hasn’t found them either.”
“The police,” I say, my voice breaking. “We need to call the police.”
Ash nods grimly. “I already did. They’re on their way.”
The next few hours blur together in a nightmare of flashing lights, questions, and forms to fill out.
The police take our statements, get descriptions of the girls, and issue an Amber Alert.
The hotel manager, a nervous man in his fifties, assures us that they’re reviewing all the security footage.
I can’t sit still. Every few minutes, I find myself pacing the lobby, checking my phone for any missed calls or messages, even though I know there aren’t any.
Carl tries to get me to eat something, but the thought of food makes my stomach turn.
“She’s only five,” I whisper to him during one of our quiet moments. We’re sitting on a couch in the lobby, and his arm is around me, solid and warm. “They’re still babies, Carl. What if someone took them? What if—”
“Stop.” His voice is firm but gentle. “We can’t think like that. Krystal is smart, and so is Becky. They’re together, which means they’re looking out for each other.”
I want to believe him, but the fear is eating me alive. Jake brings me coffee that I don’t drink, and Ash updates us every time he talks to the police.
The security footage shows the girls leaving through a side exit around nine-fifteen, but the cameras don’t cover the parking lot on that side of the building.
“They walked out on their own,” the detective tells us. “No signs of struggle or coercion. It looks like they left willingly.”
That should be reassuring, but it’s not. If anything, it makes me more worried. Why would they leave? Where would they go?
As the night wears on, more people arrive to help with the search.
Some of the other hockey players show up, along with hotel staff and even a few guests who heard what was happening.
The outpouring of support should comfort me, but all I can think about is Becky and Krystal out there somewhere in the dark.
Carl never leaves my side.
Even when the police want to interview him separately about Krystal, he insists on staying close enough that I can see him.
Every time our eyes meet, I see my own fear reflected back at me, but also something else—a fierce determination that reminds me why I’ve fallen so hard for this man.
Jake tries to keep the mood light, cracking jokes and telling stories, but I can see the worry in his green eyes.
Ash coordinates with the police and search teams with military precision, but his jaw is tight with tension.
The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon when I hear it – the sound of children’s laughter echoing through the lobby.
My head snaps up, and I see them: Becky and Krystal, walking through the front doors hand in hand, looking perfectly fine.
“Mommy!” Becky runs toward me, her face bright with excitement, completely oblivious to the chaos she’s caused.
I drop to my knees and pull her into my arms, holding her so tight she squeaks in protest. “Becky, oh my god, where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere!”
Carl has Krystal in his arms, and I can see his hands shaking as he holds her. “Sweetheart, you scared Grandpa so much. Where did you go?”
“We went on an adventure!” Becky announces proudly. “We met a really nice man, and he took us to get ice cream and showed us his motorcycle!”
My blood turns to ice. “What man, baby? What man did you meet?”
“He was really cool, Mommy. He had pretty eyes like yours, and he knew all about you!” Becky’s excitement is infectious, but all I feel is a growing sense of dread.
“Becky,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart is racing. “What was the man’s name?”
She grins up at me, her dark eyes sparkling with innocence. “He told me to call him Daddy.”
The world stops.
Everything around me—Carl’s sharp intake of breath, Jake’s muttered curse, Ash’s protective stance—fades into background noise as the full implications of Becky’s words hit me.
Mica. Somehow, impossibly, Mica is here.