Dorian sighed. “He said he was following a lead.”
“And leads don’t take this long without a call?”
“With Nolan, they do.”
“You’re saying that because you don’t want to worry.”
“I’m saying it because I know my son.”
I turned from the window and looked at him.
“Our son,” I said.
He didn’t answer that, and I wished he had. It bothered me when he talked like Nolan belonged more to him than to me, especially when things were bad. Men liked claiming sons when they wanted pride and giving them back to mothers when worry came. I was tired of being handed fear like it was my natural place.
I picked up my phone again.
This time I didn’t put it down.
The screen lit up too bright in the room, and I found Nolan’s number with my thumb before I could think myself out of it. His name sat there,
