The next day, Derek sat in his office, the positive test clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He’d barely slept, his mind a whirlwind of regret, fear, and desperate hope. How had he let her go? Pregnant. Alone. His child—their child—growing inside her while he’d wallowed in anger. Tears dried on his cheeks, but resolve hardened in his chest. He had to find her.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through contacts until he found the one he needed: a discreet private investigator he’d used for business dealings. “Track this number,” he texted, attaching Stiles’s. “Location, now. Urgent.”