Andrew asked if Emily usually acted like this.

Sadie shook her head. "No, not at all."

Emily took her work seriously. No matter how busy or late it got, as long as she was awake, she'd always reply to work messages. Nights like this, when she didn't respond, were rare. It only happened if she was already asleep or just too tied up with something important.

Sadie explained all this to Andrew, not sounding worried at all. Emily was a grown woman. No matter how committed she was to her job, she still needed her own space. It was late. Even if she was awake, it was normal not to reply to work stuff at this hour.

Andrew listened, then asked, "What time did her dinner start?"

Sadie wasn't sure why he needed to know, but she answered anyway. "Nine o'clock."

If dinner started at nine, it would go at least an hour. Andrew had come by at ten, but she still wasn't back.

Where could Emily have gone?

Andrew just said, "Alright, thanks," and hung up.

It was late. Emily hadn't come home and she wasn't picking up her phone. The whole situation with Isabella Austin still wasn't settled either, which made it even harder for Andrew to relax.

He hesitated, then decided to try Elizabeth Wilson. To his surprise, the call wouldn't go through. She'd blocked him too.

Hearing the cold, automated message, Andrew felt helpless for the first time. Regret crept in, making him replay his past choices in his mind. If only he hadn't been blocked.

He leaned back in his seat, head tilted up, eyes closed, trying to think of anyone else who might be able to reach Emily. The car was dark and silent. He'd sent his driver home hours ago. Now the wide street was almost empty. Only his car was left, parked under the streetlights.

Andrew clenched his fist and pressed his knuckles to his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he noticed someone by the trash cans across the street. There

was a woman, bundled up in a thick robe with a puffy jacket on top, tossing a bag of trash into the bin.

It was Emma George.

Without hesitating, Andrew got out and hurried over.

Emma had already finished with the trash and was walking back toward the apartment building, a few steps ahead of him Andrew followed moving fast, his steps heavy and urgent.

The street was dark and empty. When Emma heard footsteps behind her, her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the ground and saw a shadow stretching toward he inching closer and closer

Her chest tightened. Her throat felt dry. Stories from the news flashed

through her mind, making her heart, race even

ester. She kept her head

down and walked faster.

But the footsteps behind her sped up too, getting closer with every second.

Emma started to regret coming out so late to take out the trash. She lifted her head,

hoping to spot someone in the security booth by the gate.

Before she could check, the person behind her caught up.

Just as she was about to call out, a hand grabbed her wrist. A deep, familiar voice spoke up from behind.

“Ma'am, it's me, Andrew Lane."

Emma's heart was pounding and Andrew's voice only made it race more. She yanked her arm away, not even thinking. "You... you... let go of me."

She turned and glared at him, taking a few steps back. "What are you doing here?"

Andrew's lips pressed together. His voice was low, almost pleading.

"Ma'am, can you reach Emily right now?"