And it makes me feel like shit.
I tuck my phone into my pocket. I close my eyes, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.
Kiril would never put out a missing person’s report on his daughter. He would handle it himself.
I open my eyes and stare at the fridge.
Which means Felix knows about the pregnancy.
I walk to the terrace doors, staring at the great city beyond. It’s calm and cool in here. Out there, it’s swelteringly hot, tough conditions for a single mother on the run. Is she in a hotel? A subway tunnel? On a bus heading for the Canadian border?
I sigh.
Doesn’t matter. Wherever she is, I have to find her. I have to do something before anyone else gets to her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s probably my doctor’s office reminding me to go in for a check-up or Pavel wondering where I am.
But it’s not.
It’s Willow calling instead.
A knot forms in my throat. She’s been ignoring my calls for three days. Is she finally getting back to me? Or is it an accidental butt dial?
Only one way to find out.
I accept the call and whisper, “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Willow,” she says flatly. “I didn’t want to call you after what happened last week, but there’s something you should know.”
“You didn’t want to call me?”
She clears her throat and replies coldly, “No.”
“You know who I’m married to, right?”
“That’s exactly why I’m calling you. I don’t have time to go over a lot of details, but I know where Zoya is. I know there’s a missing person’s report out on her right now.”
My heart leaps from my chest. I clutch my chest, half expecting my heart to burst out of my chest. My fingers quiver as my blood races through my veins.
“What?” I blurt. “How?”
“I’ll tell you in person. Look, I didn’t know who else to call. And I sure as shit wasn’t about to turn her in. It just didn’t feel right.”
I smile weakly. “You always did have a big heart.”
“If I tell you where she is, you can’t hurt her. Understand?”
“Willow, why would I—?”
She clears her throat louder. It’s aggravating to hear it, but I know it’s her way of commanding a situation. She’s been nothing but stern since I got on the phone with her, but I try to remember that she’s probably stressed like me.
“Promise me, Liya!” she reiterates. “You won’t hurt her?”
“I promise I won’t hurt her.”
She hums with approval. “Good. I’ll be at the penthouse in an hour or so.”
“Wait, Willow, what are you—?”