The hours after Carmen's mother left felt like walking through thick fog heavy, unsettling, and tense.
Isabel and Lydia were already working, moving with a silent intensity that made me feel both safe and powerless at the same time.
I knew they were doing everything they could to find Carmen, but my anxiety gnawed at me relentlessly.
I stood by the window, staring at the New York skyline, trying to distract myself from the panic bubbling in my chest.
Carmen was out there, somewhere, and I had no idea what was happening to her. My mind spiraled into dark thoughts, imagining her hurt, imprisoned, or worse. I hated feeling this helpless.
"We've located where they're keeping her," Lydia announced, breaking my train of thought.
My heart skipped a beat. "Where?"
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