Page 22 of Maddox

I nodded, already mentally preparing for the investigation. As much as I wanted to help Clare, I knew I needed to give her space.

“Have either of you spoken to Walker in the last couple of days?”

I shook my head. I’d seen him at Kingdom on Friday.

“He’s gone to Destin. His gran is sick. He might be away for a while.” I took in Dion’s sigh and Gideon’s worried expression and understood. Of us all—if that was even possible—Walker was the most closed off. We knew his gran had raised him, and that was about all.

“We can cover him,” I said. It wasn’t like I was doing anything else. Clare had made that painfully obvious.

Dion and I headed out to start investigating Emily Carter's disappearance. As we drove to her workplace to interview her coworkers, I filled Dion in on what had happened with Clare.

"I'm sorry, man," Dion said sympathetically after I finished recounting the disastrous session. "That must have been rough."

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. "I feel like I pushed too hard, too fast. Like I've ruined any chance of helping her."

"You can't think that way," Dion said firmly. "The important thing is that you're there for her, even if she needs space right now."

I sighed heavily. "I know you're right. It's just...hard. I want to help her so badly."

"I get it," Dion said. "But maybe focusing on this case for a while will be good for both of you. Give her some time, and you a chance to clear your head."

We arrived at the Department of Children and Family Services where Emily worked. After flashing our IDs, we were directed to speak with Emily's supervisor, a stern-looking woman named Margaret Holloway.

"Emily is one of our best caseworkers," Margaret told us, worry evident in her voice. "She's dedicated, compassionate. The kids she works with adore her. It's completely out of character for her to just disappear like this."

"Did Emily ever mention any problems at home?" I asked carefully. "Any issues with her family?"

Margaret hesitated, her brow furrowing. "She didn't talk about her family much," she admitted. "But there were times...well, let's just say I got the impression things weren't great there. Emily would sometimes come in looking upset after holidays or family events."

Dion and I exchanged a glance. "Did she ever give any specifics?" Dion pressed.

Margaret shook her head. "No, she was very private about it. But..." she paused, seeming to debate whether to continue. "There was one time, about a year ago. Emily came in looking particularly distraught. When I asked if she was okay, she just said something about how she could never be what her parents wanted. That she was tired of pretending."

My heart clenched at Margaret's words, thinking of how many Littles felt that way—forced to hide their true selves from disapproving families.

"Did Emily ever mention seeing anyone?" I asked. "A boyfriend or girlfriend perhaps?"

Margaret shook her head, apologetically. “The cops already asked me that, but I can’t think of anything.” She hesitated. “Emily volunteered at Furbabies.”

I almost got whiplash with how quickly Dion’s head came up.

Dion immediately said he would go check it out and I deflated a little. It was clear Dion wanted to investigate himself, and I had my own problems. It wasn’t fair to use Emily as a distraction. She needed someone’s total focus. “Let me know if and when you need me,” I told Dion.

Gratitude flashed in Dion’s eyes as he realized I was taking a step back. “And you let me know how I can help you,” he returned.

I called Gideon and told him what we’d found. “Keep me informed. Oh, and just to remind you both, we’re holding an introductory Little session at Salvation on Friday. Invite only. Abby was clear it had to be a small gathering.”

I couldn’t help the smile. For all Gideon was a Daddy to Abby’s Little, it was clear who was really in charge. But it made me think. “What’s the chances of Abby calling Clare and inviting her?”

Gideon chuckled. “Let me see what I can do.”

CLARE

I stared at my phone, my finger hovering over Maddox's number. It had been almost a week since our disastrous session, and I hadn't contacted him once. He’d texted me twice but I hadn’t replied. Part of me felt guilty for ghosting him, but another part was still too scared to reach out.

A text notification popped up, startling me. It was from an unknown number:

"Hi Clare, this is Abby (Maddox's friend). I'm having a small Little get-together at Salvation on Friday night. Very low-key, just a few of us. Would love for you to join if you're up for it. No pressure at all! Let me know x."

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