Emily Blair returned home, defeated.

Days of chasing leads had turned up only a few scraps of information about Adelaide George, and she was still no closer to finding the child.

By the time she got back to her townhouse, it was already eleven at night.

The house was pitch black—the living room lights were off, and not a sound stirred in the darkness.

She flicked on the main light, slipped into her slippers, and stepped into the living

room.

Emma George's bedroom was empty as well.

Emma still wasn't home.

A faint crease appeared between Emily's brows as she tossed her files onto the coffee table.

Lately, Emma had been coming home later and later-sometimes not even walking through the door until after midnight. When Emily pressed her, Emma just gave the same old answer: she'd been out shopping and grabbing dinner with her girlfriends.

But Emma had gone out at night plenty of times before, and she'd never come home this late.

Emily took a shower, but when she came out, Emma still hadn't returned.

Towel-drying her hair, Emily grabbed her phone and called.

Emma picked up almost immediately. "Hey, Emily! I'm on my way back right now. I'll be home soon, don't worry."

Emily could hear car horns on Emma's end of the line. "What are you doing out so late?"

Emma's answer was as breezy as ever. "Oh, you know, just dinner and shopping with the girls. Nothing special."

Emily let a few seconds of silence stretch between them, but decided not to push.

"Come home soon, okay? Don't stay out all night."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Emma replied.

Emily set her phone down, her mind drifting back to that day she'd run into Emma while out with Tristan Davis. She couldn't shake the suspicion that Emma's late nights had something to do with Isabella Austin's parents.

But Emma refused to tell her anything, treating her like a fool she could just brush off.

All Emily could do was wait for Emma to get back and try again.

She waited nearly half an hour before Emma finally came through the door.

Emily sat waiting for her in the living room.

Emma jumped a little when she saw her. "Whoa, you're still up this late?”

Emily didn't answer, just asked, "Why are you getting home so late?”

Emma bent down to change her shoes, her tone casual. "I told you, I was out with the girls. Lost track of time, that's all.”

Emily crossed her arms, studying her. "You sure you weren't out looking for Isabella Austin's parents again?"

Emma waved a hand dismissively. “No, what are you talking about? I was just shopping. Last time I ran into Isabella Austin's parents, it was pure coincidence." "Shopping, huh?" Emily eyed her empty hands. "Out for hours and came home empty-handed? I transferred you plenty of money."

Emma frowned, indignant. "So what if I didn't buy anything? I couldn't find anything I liked, that's all."

Emily nodded. "Alright. So, where exactly did you go shopping tonight?"

Emma walked over, wary. "Why the interrogation?"

"Just asking. You seem nervous."

Emma shot her a glare. "Is that any way to talk to your mother? I was over on Cedar Avenue. Is that a crime?"

Emily replied, "Did you at least try the Fried Chicken Shop there? Their food's amazing."

Emma scoffed. "Trying to trip me up? There isn't even a Fried Chicken Shop on Cedar Avenue."

Caught, Emily clicked her tongue in frustration.

Emma shot her a knowing look. "I'm your mother. You think I can't tell you're fishing for information?"

Emily stared at her.

Emma held her gaze. “What? I already told you, I was out shopping. What's there to be suspicious about?"