Chapter 17—I HOPE SHES OKAY.

ALEXANDER

Three hours.

For three unbearable hours, I had been trying to convince myself that the sound I heard over the phone had not been as terrible as it seemed.

It was impossible.

Every time I closed my eyes, the memory returned with brutal clarity. Brea's voice had barely reached my ears before she screamed, and immediately afterward, there had been a violent crash loud enough to make my entire body go cold. Despite my shouting, there was no response. Only silence.

At first, I had called repeatedly, convinced that perhaps the network had failed or that she had dropped her phone in the confusion. After several attempts, however, the calls stopped connecting altogether. Her number had been switched off.

That was three hours ago.

Now, darkness covered the road ahead of me, while the headlights of my car cut through the empty street. Sophie had fallen asleep in the backseat a long time ago, her small body curled against the cushion with one of her arms wrapped around the stuffed rabbit she refused to sleep without.

Although I had driven around for hours, I had no idea where I was going.

That realization was what finally made me pull over.

The car came to a stop at the side of the quiet road, and I remained behind the steering wheel for several seconds, staring ahead while my hands tightened around it. My chest felt strangely heavy, as though something inside me had been wound so tightly that one more pull would cause it to snap.

Where the hell are you, Brea?

My eyes moved toward the rearview mirror.

Sophie was still asleep.

At least one of us was.

Switching off the engine, I stepped out of the car and quietly shut the door behind me. The night air immediately touched my face, cool and sharp, while the sound of distant insects filled the silence surrounding me.

My phone was already in my hand.

There was only one person I could think of calling.

Amelia.

After finding Brea's number through her earlier, I had not spoken to Amelia again. At the time, I had been too focused on reaching Brea to explain why I needed her number so badly. Now, however, I found myself wondering whether Brea had contacted her at any point during the evening.

Perhaps she had.

Perhaps Brea was perfectly fine.

Maybe I was allowing my imagination to create a disaster where none existed.

That possibility lasted for only a few seconds before my mind returned to the crash I had heard.

My thumb pressed Amelia's name.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

By the fourth ring, I was beginning to wonder whether she would answer when the call finally connected.

“Hello?”

Her voice was thick with sleep, and I glanced at the time displayed on my screen.

12:17 a.m.

Damn.

“Doctor Amelia, I apologize for calling you at this hour,” I said, lowering my voice as I glanced toward the car. “I know it is extremely late, but I need to ask you about Brea, and I would not have disturbed you if it was not important.”

There was a brief silence.

When Amelia spoke again, her voice was clearer, although I could still hear the confusion behind it.

“Sir, is everything alright? It is past midnight, and you are calling me about Brea, so I am hoping there isn't a problem. Has something happened at the hospital that needs her attention?”

“No, nothing happened at the hospital,” I answered quickly, running a hand over my face. “I just need to know whether you have heard from Brea. Has she called you tonight or sent you another message since the one she sent earlier?”

That silence lasted longer.

“Brea?”

“Yes.”

“Sir, is everything okay?” she asked again, this time sounding more awake. “I have never heard you sound this worried before. Is there a reason you need to speak with her?”

My jaw tightened.

There was no way to explain what I was feeling without revealing more than I was ready to.

“Her line is not going through,” I said instead. “I have been trying to reach her, but her phone is switched off.”

Amelia let out a soft breath, and I could almost picture her sitting up in bed.

“Sir, maybe she is sleeping. Brea has been driving for hours, and she was already emotionally exhausted when she left. Her phone could have gone off because the battery died. I don't think you should immediately assume that something terrible has happened.”

My grip tightened around the phone.

“Amelia.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You don't understand what I am saying.”

The concern in my voice must have reached her because the sleepy softness disappeared completely.

“Sir?”

“I called her earlier, and she answered the phone,” I said slowly, forcing myself to remain calm even though my wolf was growing increasingly restless. “Before I could say much, I heard her scream. There was a crash immediately afterward, and the call went silent. Since then, I have tried reaching her countless times, but her phone is now switched off.”

There was complete silence on the other end.

“Sir...” Amelia's voice was quieter now.

“I was hoping she would have called you if she was alright,” I continued, my frustration finally slipping through. “I thought that perhaps she would have contacted you, considering you are her closest friend at the hospital. But since she hasn't, you're of no help.”

The words came out harsher than necessary.

Before she could respond, I ended the call.

For a moment, I stared at the dark screen.

Then guilt began creeping into my chest.

Amelia had done nothing wrong.

She had no reason to know where Brea was, and calling her in the middle of the night before snapping at her because she did not have the answers I wanted was unfair.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to call back.

Not yet.

Right now, I had something more important to do.

I needed to find Brea.

Getting back into the car, I started the engine and pulled away from the roadside. This time, however, I knew exactly where I was going.

Home.