A Dream that Devours

Cass burst through the front door of his apartment, his breath coming fast, shallow. His heart was pounding.

Something was wrong.

More wrong than before.

The air inside felt stale, too still, like the entire world was holding its breath.

His fingers twitched against his sides as his eyes swept the living room. The couch was there, Logan sprawled across it, controller in hand, absorbed in whatever game was flickering on the screen.

But something was missing.

Cass's stomach twisted.

He cleared his throat. "Where's Vera?"

Logan didn't look up. "Huh?"

Cass took a step forward. His vision blurred at the edges, the sound of the game too loud.

"Vera," he repeated, voice tight. "Where is she?"

Logan finally glanced over, confused. Too confused.

"What?"

Cass froze. His body locked up.

His pulse slammed against his ribs.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" His voice sounded distant, not his own. "Where's your sister?"

Logan blinked at him.

"Dad, what are you talking about?"

Cass's breath hitched. His stomach plummeted.

Logan looked… normal.

Too normal.

He wasn't playing a joke. He wasn't messing with him. He didn't know.

Cass's mind went blank.

"Don't—" His voice cracked. "Don't mess with me, Logan."

"I'm not!" Logan shot back, shifting uncomfortably. "You're acting weird."

Cass took a slow step back, his legs barely holding him up. His throat closed up, his fingers curled into fists at his sides.

He spun toward the hallway.

Her room.

He was already moving before he could think, ripping open the door.

The walls were bare.

The closet was empty.

The pink blankets, the stuffed animals, the bookshelf—gone.

Like she had never been there.

Cass's breath left him in a sharp, ragged exhale.

His knees nearly buckled.

This wasn't possible.

He stumbled back into the living room.

His wife was there now, watching him from the kitchen, brows furrowed. "Cass?"

His voice broke.

"Where is she?"

She tilted her head. "Where is who?"

Cass's skin went cold.

His wife's expression was genuinely confused.

His fingers dug into his scalp. "Vera. Our daughter."

The confusion on her face deepened.

"Cass… are you okay?"

Cass's world tilted.

His throat went dry. His head felt too light.

She was lying.

She had to be lying.

Cass shook his head, desperation rising like bile. "No. No, don't do this. She was here. She was—" His breath hitched. "You held her. You read to her before bed. You—"

His wife's eyes darkened with concern.

"Cass…" Her voice dropped, soft now, like she was afraid of him. "Are you okay?"

Cass stumbled back like he'd been struck.

His stomach twisted violently. He turned, scanning the apartment with frantic movements.

The photos.

There had to be pictures. There had to be something.

He sprinted to the hallway, grabbed the framed family portrait from the wall.

His hands shook.

His breath caught in his throat.

It was just the three of them.

Him. His wife. Logan.

Vera was gone.

Cass squeezed his eyes shut. His grip on the frame tightened until his knuckles ached.

He turned, voice hoarse. "She was here. I remember her."

His wife flinched.

Logan looked away, shifting uncomfortably.

Cass's entire body locked up. His pulse thundered in his skull.

Vera had been erased.

They had taken her.

The realization nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

His wife was still watching him. Her eyes filled with concern, but it wasn't for Vera.

It was for him.

She thought he was losing it.

Maybe he was.

Cass turned and stormed out the door.

He needed air.

The night was cold.

Cass stood outside, hands on his knees, gasping like he couldn't breathe.

The street was quiet. The entire neighborhood felt wrong, like it wasn't real anymore.

Because maybe it wasn't.

He felt something crack inside him.

His daughter was gone.

No. Not gone.

Erased.

His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. His entire body shook.

A shadow shifted at the edge of the street.

Cass stiffened.

A man stood near the streetlamp.

Watching him.

Cass's blood ran ice cold.

His breath hitched.

The man smiled.

It was him.

The Enforcer.

Cass took one step forward.

"Where is she?" His voice was raw, shaking.

The Enforcer sighed, tilting his head. "Mr. Voss. I'd hoped we wouldn't have to meet like this."

Cass's entire body coiled like a wire about to snap.

The Enforcer studied him with detached amusement. "You've been looking where you shouldn't. That's a problem."

Cass's nails dug into his palms.

The Enforcer's expression didn't change.

"She's not gone."

Cass's stomach twisted.

His fists clenched so hard they ached.

The Enforcer smiled faintly. "She's where she's supposed to be. But… I can bring her back."

Cass's breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"You're lying."

The Enforcer sighed, adjusting his cuffs. "Am I?"

Cass said nothing. His entire body was trembling.

"She's safe," the Enforcer continued. "But you, Mr. Voss… you've been making waves. Digging into things you don't understand."

Cass's jaw tightened.

The Enforcer sighed. "The people I work for believe in second chances."

Then, his smile widened.

"But you've already had one before, haven't you?"

Cass stilled.

His body locked up. His pulse thundered in his ears.

The Enforcer watched him carefully, like he was waiting for something to click.

Cass felt his breath hitch.

He didn't know what the man meant.

But somewhere, deep down, he did.

The Enforcer straightened his jacket. "There aren't many chances left now."

Cass's breath came in shallow, broken gasps.

The Enforcer took a step back, hands in his pockets. "I'll give you time to think about it."

Cass barely registered his next words.

"I'd hate for you to lose more. . ."

Cass blinked—

And the man was gone.

The street was empty.

His pulse roared in his ears.

His hands shook as he reached for his phone.

A text.

Unknown number.

One word.

"Daddy?"

End of Chapter 20