A Mother’s Instinct

Fiona’s POV

Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but I could feel it deep inside me—the kind of feeling only a mother would have when her child was in trouble.

I’d been sitting in the living room, phone in hand, trying to reach Phoebe for the past hour. She hadn’t answered any of my calls, and my instincts were screaming at me to keep trying.

Stevenson walked in, looking as indifferent as always. We didn’t exchange words; he barely even looked at me. As he headed upstairs, I called Phoebe again, praying she would finally answer. And then, the line connected.

“Phoebe?” I asked, relieved at first. But the voice on the other end wasn’t my daughter’s.

“Antonio?” I guessed. “Why do you have Phoebe’s phone? Where is she? Where is my daughter?”

There was a pause, and then the words that froze my blood: "Phoebe's been in an accident."

The phone slipped from my fingers, and I gave a raw, loud and piercing scream. “What! What