Hunter stormed into the police station, his stride fast and impatient, with Ned and Claudia following behind him.
The air inside the station was thick with the scent of stale coffee and paper, and the usual buzz of officers typing reports or answering calls filled the space.
But to Hunter, it all faded into the background. His mind was singularly focused.
Delilah was missing. And every second that passed without finding her felt like a knife was twisting in his gut.
The moment they stepped in, an officer at the front desk recognized Hunter and nodded toward a door on the left. "The chief is expecting you," he said, sensing that Hunter wasn't in the mood for any pleasantries.
Hunter didn't wait for an invitation. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The head of police, a grizzled man in his fifties with sharp eyes that missed nothing, was seated behind his desk, flipping through a file. He looked up as they entered, his gaze immediately narrowing on Hunter.
