My stomach dropped. “What?”

“It was canceled almost immediately. The caller said it was a mistake.”

“That wasn’t Chloe,” I whispered.

Collins nodded slowly. “The voice was an adult male.”

They requested permission to enter. Within minutes, the side door was forced open.

“Police! Rachel Thompson! Chloe Thompson!”

Silence.

The air inside smelled sharply of cleaning solution. The living room was stripped—no photos, no decorations, no television. The refrigerator stood open and empty.

“It looks like someone cleared it out,” Brooks said quietly.

“She wouldn’t just leave,” I insisted.

Rachel’s bedroom was bare. Closet empty. Drawers cleared.

Chloe’s room—same thing. Mattress only. No stuffed animals.

On the floor sat Chloe’s tablet.

Brooks picked it up carefully. A sticky note was taped to the back.

He read it aloud:

“IF YOU COME LOOKING, YOU’LL NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN.”
“STOP CALLING.”

My knees weakened.

“That’s Mark,” I said. I didn’t need proof.

Collins’s voice hardened. “We’re treating this as an abduction.”

In the laundry room, faint wet footprints led toward the back door. On the handle, a dark smear.

“Possibly blood,” Brooks said.

The house hadn’t just been emptied.

It had been wiped.

Except for Chloe’s call.

If she called at 11:47, she was alive then.

By 2 a.m., detectives arrived. Detective Samuel Ortiz introduced himself.

“Custody arrangement?” he asked.

“Supervised visits only,” I said. “He lost his temper in court.”

“Recent contact?”

“He kept texting from new numbers. She blocked him.”

Ortiz nodded toward the tablet in an evidence bag. “Last outgoing call was to you. Device lost signal at 11:47. It pinged again nineteen minutes later near the highway.”

“They were moving,” I said.

“Yes. That timeline helps.”

“Anywhere he might go?”

I swallowed. “He once mentioned a hunting cabin near Prescott. Said there’s no cell service.”

Ortiz immediately relayed the information.

Soon an AMBER Alert went out with Chloe’s photo and Mark’s gray SUV. My own phone buzzed with it.

At dawn, Ortiz returned.

“We have a sighting,” he said. “Gas station camera captured his vehicle.”

Hours later, officers located the SUV abandoned near a desert access road. Footprints led to a remote cabin.

“They’re inside,” Ortiz told me over the phone. “We’re negotiating.”

Every second felt endless.

Finally, my phone rang again.

“We’ve secured the scene,” he said. “Chloe is alive.”

I sank to the floor, sobbing.

“And Rachel?”