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But I’d never forget the way he made me feel.

The way he cared and treated me like I was something special.

The way he was steadily bringing me back to life.

The way he made it so easy to love him.

Will I ever feel what I felt in those moments again?

No.

Never again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

PETER

Seven Years Ago

December 21st, 1985

The police station felt smaller than I remembered. Or maybe it was just me. Maybe everything felt tighter now, like the walls were closing in, like there wasn’t enough fucking air left in the world to breathe properly anymore. It’d been seven days since Evie was taken. Seven days since they claimed she might've been a runaway, even though they found what he left behind. That was the part that wouldn’t stop grinding in my head.

“You’re telling me you still have nothing?” I said, leaning forward over the counter, palms flat against the scratched surface. “You know who took her. So what’s taking so fucking long?”

“We’re not confirming anything at this stage,” the middle-aged officer said.

“Not confirming.” I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t stand there and tell me you’re not confirming anything.” Nicola’s hand slid into mine, squeezing hard. “You don’t get to do this again. Not when we already know.”

“We understand this is distressing⁠—”

“Distressing?” I snap. “My sister was taken by a serial killer, the same fucking bastard who murdered my father, and you’re calling it distressing?” A couple of heads turned. I didn’t care. I didn’t even understand how I was still standing at this point. My little sister was fucking gone, and no one seemed to care. “If you know it’s him,” I continued, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “then what are you doing? Where are you looking? Who are you talking to?”

“We can’t disclose operational details⁠—”

“Of course you can’t,” I cut in bitterly. “That’d be too helpful.”

Nicola stepped slightly in front of me then, her voice steadier than mine. “Please,” she said to the officer. “We’re not asking for everything. Just…something. Is there any progress at all?”

The officer hesitated. Hope shouldn’t look like that. It shouldn’t look like a man avoiding your eyes. “We are pursuing several leads,” he supplied carefully.

“Like what?” I pressed.

“I can’t go into specifics.”

“How can you just expect me to accept that answer? Do you understand what we’ve been through? You know my father was murdered by him, and now he has my sister. Do you have any idea what that feels like?” I wanted to scream and tear my hair out, knowing Evie was somewhere out there right now with a man who did unspeakable things, and no one of authority seemed to be in a rush to find her.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t,” I retorted. “If you did, you wouldn’t be standing there giving me nothing.” I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing a step back before turning again. “He keeps them for three months before he kills them,” I said, my voice breaking. “God knows what he’ll do to her in that time.”

The officer’s jaw tightened slightly. “We are aware of the pattern.”

“Then act like it,” I snapped. “Because every hour you stand here doing nothing⁠—”

“We are not doing nothing,” he cut in, a hint of steel finally breaking through.

“Then prove it!”