Tristan kept his head down as he brushed the dust from his knees, then walked over to the group of men and leaned in to check their computer screens.

"How far have you gotten?" he asked.

"We're still digging," one of them answered. "The kidnapper knew exactly what he was doing. There are so many firewalls. Every time we break through one, there's another right behind it. I've lost track of how many I've seen. It's a nightmare."

The others nodded in agreement, frustration written all over their faces.

It made sense, though. Someone like Benjamin Gomez wouldn't have left anything to chance. He was never going to make it easy for them to track him down.

Tristan gave a quiet nod, then patted them on the shoulders. "Keep going. Don't give up."

While they worked, Elizabeth looked up at the sky, rubbing her arms to keep warm and breathing out a cloud of mist.

“Cold?” Tristan asked. He was sitting in a different car, eyes glued to his laptop, not even glancing her way.

Elizabeth looked over at him, then up at the sky. “Is it going to snow soon?"

One of the guys Tristan had brought along looked up from his computer, trying to break the tension. "The weather report said we might see snow in a few hours." Elizabeth's eyes drifted to their thick, black jackets. "Aren't you all freezing?"

The man shook his head. “No way. My hands are practically overheating from all this typing. I don't even have time to think about the cold."

Normally, Elizabeth was quick with a joke or a comeback, but now she just nodded and mumbled, "That's good," before falling silent.

She glanced at her phone. Benjamin Gomez had just sent a message to Rose, telling her to destroy the evidence they'd gathered. Elizabeth checked the time. Twenty minutes had already slipped by.

Worried that Benjamin might lose it and hurt Emily, Elizabeth fired off a message to Rose: Are you done yet?

Rose didn't answer right away. After a few minutes, she replied: I think the police are onto us. What should I do?

Elizabeth's heart jumped. She typed back fast: What do you mean? Onto what?

Rose, her nerves showing, sent a video of her burning the evidence, then added: I was crouched by the road with a lighter, didn't see any cops, Out apparently they followed me. They saw what I was doing and guessed Emily might've been kidnapped. They even suggested I go to the police. What should I do? I didn't admit anything, I swear.

Elizabeth frowned, worry pressing in on her.

A moment later, Rose sent another message: The police talked to me for a while. Honestly, they made some good points. They said if we go to them, they'll make sure the kidnapper doesn find out so

should we report this? More help

means more hope, right? And they're the police. They have to be more reliable than us.

Elizabeth felt torn. She got up, phone in hand, and went to find Tristan. She showed him the messages.

“Tristan, Rose just went to the station to hand over the paperwork. I think the police are onto us."

Tristan's expression tightened.

He'd already been suspicious. Why

had the police insisted on calling

Emaily, and why did she have too

answer herself? They must have

started to piece things together.

He knew the police had better tools and a lot more experience. But that didn't matter

to him. He only cared about keeping Emily safe.

If going to the police meant putting Emily in any more danger, he wouldn't even consider it.

Elizabeth was struggling with the same worry.

They'd been stuck for hours, unable to find the next clue. Maybe the police could help. And they'd promised not to let Benjamin Gomez find out.

Tristan thought for nearly a minute before saying, "Let's wait for Benjamin's next move. Don't do anything yet."

Elizabeth nodded. "Okay."

She messaged Rose, telling her to hold off and wait.

Tristan stared at the chat with the unknown number, a quiet sense of dread settling

in his chest.