I eased my hand out of Roxanne’s grip and stepped into the hallway. The moment the door closed, I called my assistant.
“Any news?” I asked.
There was a pause. Too long.
“Sir… we’re still searching. The waves are rough. It was dark. We added more boats, but—”
“Don’t stop,” I snapped. “She didn’t drown.”
I pressed my fingers to my forehead. “Isabella can swim. She’s strong. She’s done this kind of thing before.”
And Ryle.
My jaw clenched.
“She didn’t jump to die,” I said, more to myself than him. “She jumped because Ryle was in the water. She was saving him. She always does that.”
The image burned behind my eyes. My father in law was shoving Ryle forward. The splash. Isabella not even hesitating before jumping in after him.
“She wouldn’t leave the boy,” I said. “She’s probably keeping him afloat somewhere. Looking for a way out.”
I hung up and stood there longer than I meant to. Snow was piling up outside the window. White. Silent. Cold.
...
The next morning, I made sure Roxanne was watched closely and drove home alone.
The house felt wrong the second I stepped inside.
Too quiet.
“Belle?” I called.
Nothing.
“Ryle?” My voice echoed back at me.