Jeremy’s POV
Hanging up the phone on the update concerning my mother, I stare at my phone a bit, deep in thought. Next, I text Claire, waiting for a response, then I put the phone back into my pocket.
Reed is at the wheel, jaw set, that familiar crease between his brows carved deeper than I’ve ever seen it. Wayland is in the passenger seat, quiet with Oliver beside me at the back, his posture rigid, gazing forward, but I catch the tension in his shoulders. We all feel it. The absence this mystery woman left behind is louder than her presence ever was.
No one speaks.
The radio murmurs low, some late-night song bleeding softly into the space, barely audible over the hum of the engine. Reed’s hands grip the steering wheel, controlled but tight. He hasn’t said a word since the warehouse,
