Page 33 of Girl Lost
Was it possible?
No.
But then ... maybe, just maybe.
She had to force herself to slow her breathing.Keep gathering intel. Find out for sure.“This girl,” she asked. “How old is she?”
“Ain’t like I carded her. How should I know?”
Luna almost rolled her eyes at the attitude but refrained. “If you had to guess.”
“I dunno.” She sucked air through the corner of her mouth until it squeaked. “Sixteen ... seventeen? We’re taking driver’s ed together. She said she was behind because she’d missed so much school.”
Or maybe eighteen. The age her biological daughter would be. “Missed school why?”
“Seriously, I’m so not her record keeper.” Liv blew out a long breath. “I guess her parents died or something. I don’t know! Look, I got my own life to worry about.”
She’d annoyed Liv with all the questions about another girl and asking none about her. Luna had to press further, at least a bit. “What’s this girl’s name?”
“I barely talk to her. It’s Tristan or ... Treasure ... No wait. Trinity. Yeah, that’s it.”
Trinity.
She rolled the name over and over.
“So this girl ... Trinity, you said?”
Liv nodded.
“What’s she look like?”
“Dark hair. Dark eyes.” She scanned Luna toe to head. “Kinda looks like you, actually.”
She clenched her toes together. A trick to avoid showing how fast her heart raced at Liv’s words.
Could it be? The one reason she was here...
A teenage girl. And Liv said Trinity looked like her. But if she was Trinity’s mother, where was her adoptive family? And why hadn’t Stryker told her? Why hadn’t he said her biological daughter was in the Warrior program?
All these years, she’d dreamed about the life her child lived without her. Loving parents who threw her elaborate birthday parties. Who tucked her into bed at night and read her stories in a roomespecially decorated for her. Who drove her to school and kissed her goodbye. Who provided for her so that she had clothes and food and never had to search for her next meal. Who kept her safe and protected.
But maybe ... maybe she’d been wrong.
12
CORBINTRACED HIS THUMBaround the rim of the whiskey glassand stared into the golden liquid. Answers weren’t atthe bottom, but he searched there anyway.
His office was a mess. Stacks of files teetered precariously on his desk, evidence photos scattered across the corkboard, and empty coffee cups littered every surface. The only source of light was the desk lamp, casting long shadows across the room, making the space feel even smaller and more cluttered than usual.
This whole day had been a catastrophe. It wouldn’t surprise him if he lost his job over it. His boss already had it out for him, and today ... well, today was nothing but utter disaster.
He picked up the whiskey glass and swirled the liquid. Breathed in the woody scent and set it back down without taking a sip. He wanted the drink with an intensity that burned deep down. But he wouldn’t drink it.
Self-control. He still had that.
He also had two people who’d disappeared in their hometown without a trace. His responsibility. Their lives, their families, their futures ... all depending on him. And he was failing them.
His cell phone vibrated. Blade. “Hey, man.”
