Page 10 of Jenna's Protector

“I… Yes, I have. Some regulars were talking about another girl going missing just this morning.” Her voice wavers slightly, a tremor that most people wouldn’t notice.

I’m not most people, not when it comes to Jenna.

“It’s horrifying,” she says. “But I don’t see how I can help you.” She absently strokes Max’s fur as he sits contentedly at her feet, his presence a soothing buffer between us.

I take a step closer, careful not to invade her personal space but wanting to convey my sincerity.

“I need to ask you something. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

“What is it?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, her fingers now clutching at the fabric of her shirt over her belly. It’s a subtle gesture, one I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t spent months cataloging her every movement.

I swallow hard. I’m about to drag her back into a past she’s tried to leave behind.

“It’s about your past.” I keep my voice low and as gentle as possible.

The warmth in her eyes vanishes instantly. Her posture straightens as if bracing for a physical blow.

“My past?” The words come out in a whisper, but the tension in the small office makes it feel like a shout.

A fierce, protective instinct surges through me. I want to shield her, to take back my words and pretend this conversation never happened.

But I can’t.

The missing girls are counting on me.

I force myself to continue, hating every word. “I know what happened to you.”

The transformation in her expression is heart-wrenching. Disbelief morphs into shock, then raw fear. Her breathing quickens—a subtle change that nonetheless screams of rising panic. Max whines softly, picking up on her distress, and presses closer to her legs.

God, her eyes tell a story of pain and fear, making me want to gather her in my arms and never let go.

But I can’t.

I’m here as a detective, using her trauma to solve a case. The guilt of it sits heavy in my chest, a weight I’m not sure I’ll ever be rid of.

“Why are you digging into my past?” She steps back, eyes wild with a mix of fear and rage.

“I didn’t dig into your past. I reached out for help, and your name was mentioned.” I raise both hands in a placating gesture, my heart breaking at the pain I’ve caused her.

Her gaze darts around the small room, reminiscent of a trapped animal searching desperately for escape. Max whines softly, picking up on the tension, his tail tucked between his legs.

“How?” she chokes out, her voice barely above a whisper. “How is my past related to any of this?”

I meet her gaze, my eyes filled with concern and an ache that goes beyond professional duty. “I was told you might have insights that could help me find these girls. That could help me stop whoever’s behind this.”

“No.” Jenna wraps her arms around herself. “I buried my past for a reason.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “If there was any other way…” I trail off, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “I’ve exhausted every lead. These girls, they’re running out of time. Without your help, they might be lost forever.”

Jenna’s eyes flash with anger, but beneath it, a flicker of something else exists.

Understanding?

Compassion?

Resignation?

“Please. These girls need your help.”

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