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“I believe you,” I tell her.

Her throat moves.

Then she laughs under her breath again. “That shouldn’t feel rare.”

But it does.

I can tell.

That’s the part making my hands curl into fists.

Everybody keeps acting objective while Maggie stays missing.

Laurel exhales before straightening again, composing herself. “I want to see Sophie and Mick.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe they know something they aren’t saying.”

Maybe.

Or maybe they’re scared too.

The Whites’ place sits thirty minutes outside town. The house itself looks tired, the kind of place built by people who intended permanence and got worn down by life instead.

Sophie opens the door while Laurel’s still pressing the bell. She looks tired but manages something close to a smile. “Laurel. Hi, sweetheart.”

Then she sees me and the smile fades.

“We just wanted to check in,” Laurel says. “See if there’s been any word from Tom.”

Sophie’s expression shutters immediately.

Yeah. There’s something there alright.

Inside, Mick sits at the kitchen table staring into untouched coffee while an old baseball game plays quietly on the TV nearby.

Neither of them appear to have been sleeping much lately.

“How’s Lucy?” Sophie asks.

Laurel softens instantly at the mention of her niece. “Better.”

“Good.” Sophie nods quickly. “That’s good.”

Mick finally clears his throat. “Tom says the police are making this bigger than it needs to be.”

There it is again.

Tom’s version of events has already settled into this family.

Laurel sits at the table across from them. I watch from the kitchen counter. “Do you believe that?” she asks.

Neither answers immediately.

Interesting.

Sophie twists her wedding ring nervously. “Tom’s under pressure.”