Martha cupped his face, forcing him to look at her through the tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No. Don’t you dare say that, Logan Kingsley. Jean is stronger than that. She’s not gone, do you hear me?" Her own voice wavered, but she refused to let him drown in despair. "She loves you. I’ve seen it. She wouldn’t give up like that... not on you, not on herself." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Logan’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as he buried his face against her shoulder, his sobs tearing from his chest like open wounds. Martha held him tightly, stroking his back the way she did when he was a boy, whispering desperate reassurances he barely heard.

But even as she comforted him, her eyes glistened with worry. A mother’s intuition screamed at her that something truly was wrong... that Jean wasn’t safe.

Martha kept holding him, her hand smoothing over his trembling back. She whispered, "Breathe, Logan. Just breathe."

But inside, her heart was pounding. A mother’s instinct gnawed at her... Jean wasn’t simply gone. Something darker lingered at the edges of her gut, a fear that Jean was in danger even now.

She tilted Logan’s tear streaked face toward her. "Listen to me. We’re not giving up on her. Not now, not ever."

Logan’s eyes were vacant, swimming in grief. He shook his head faintly, his voice hoarse. "But the police said... the currents... they might never..." His throat closed around the words.

Martha’s jaw tightened. "The police are wrong." Her tone was sharp, commanding, the steel of a mother protecting both her son and the woman he loved. "Jared still has influence. He’ll push them to keep searching. If Jean is out there and I believe she is... we’ll find her."

At that moment, Jared appeared at the doorway, Hannah hovering behind him, worry etched on both their faces. Martha shot her husband a look, firm and unyielding.

"Call the officers back," she ordered. "Make them sweep the perimeter again. Every road, every camera, every inch of shoreline. Don’t let them rest until they’ve searched properly."

Jared hesitated only a moment before nodding grimly. "I’ll take care of it."

Logan blinked at them, still broken, but a faint flicker stirred in his chest... like hope fighting to breathe beneath the crushing weight of despair.

Martha cupped his face once more and whispered fiercely, "You hold on to her, Logan. As long as we don’t have proof she’s gone, you don’t let go of her in here." She tapped a hand against his chest, over his heart.

For the first time since the morning, Logan’s breath hitched differently... not with despair, but with the raw ache of needing to believe.

__________________________

Jean stirred awake, her lashes fluttering against the faint stream of light spilling through thin curtains. Her head throbbed mercilessly, every beat of her pulse pounding against her skull like a hammer.

When her vision cleared, she froze. This wasn’t the room she’d been in before. The walls were painted in muted cream, the furniture foreign and ornate. A heavy dread coiled in her chest.

She stumbled out of bed, bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor. That’s when she noticed it... a balcony ahead, the curtains swaying with the faint breeze that seeped through the crack.

Maybe I can scream... maybe someone will hear me.

With a burst of desperate energy, Jean rushed forward. But halfway across the room, her knees buckled. Pain seared through her skull, sharp and unbearable, forcing her to clutch her head. Still, she forced herself on, staggering, her vision swimming.

She reached the balcony door and pushed it open, the sunlight hitting her face. A vast city stretched below... foreign architecture, an unfamiliar skyline. And beyond it, the unmistakable shimmer of an ocean.

Her lips parted, ready to scream but nothing came out. Her throat tightened, the words strangled before they could escape. She clawed at her chest, forcing the sound, but all that left her was a hoarse, broken whisper.

"No... no..."

The realization hit her like a blow to the gut. This wasn’t just another city. She wasn’t even in her country anymore. The cars, the signs in an unfamiliar language, the sheer distance that weighed down on her shoulders... Tyler had taken her across borders.

Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, trembling. Tears blurred her vision, the balcony railing swimming into haze.

How will I ever escape now?

Jean’s body stiffened when she felt arms snake around her waist from behind. His grip was firm, possessive, leaving no space for her to slip away.

"Finally awake, my love," Tyler’s voice purred against her ear as his lips brushed the crown of her head, lingering like he belonged there. His scent, his touch... everything about him made her skin crawl.

Jean squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will herself anywhere but here. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her hands trembling as she gripped the cold balcony railing.

Tears gathered in her lashes, and with a choked voice, she whispered, "I was happy to end my life... than to live with you, Tyler."

He only chuckled, the sound low and pleased, as though her pain fed his twisted fantasy. His hold on her tightened, dragging her closer until her back pressed to his chest.

"Or..." he drawled, his tone smooth with dangerous promise, "...you can just give me a chance to prove how much better I am than your Logan."

Jean’s entire being recoiled at his words. She bit down on her trembling lip to stop the sob threatening to escape. His delusion was suffocating, his obsession inescapable.

To Tyler, this wasn’t a kidnapping. This was a love story finally unfolding the way it should have been.

To Jean, it was the beginning of hell.

Tyler’s lips curved into a smile as if he were whispering a lover’s secret. His arms didn’t leave her waist; instead, they pulled her closer, caging her with suffocating tenderness.

"We’ll leave this place soon," he murmured, his voice soft yet venomously sure. "I’ve prepared everything... a private island, far away from the noise, far away from people who’ll never understand us."

Jean’s heart sank. The more he spoke, the more she realized he had thought it all through... every detail of this nightmare.

"There, no one can take you from me," Tyler continued, pressing his lips to her temple like a husband comforting his wife. "We’ll get married... a beautiful ceremony, just the two of us. Legal or not..." his laugh was light, almost boyish, sending shivers down her spine, "...who cares? For the world, Jean, you’re already gone."

His grip on her waist tightened as his words turned sharper, mocking. "You made sure of that, didn’t you, darling?"

Jean’s breath hitched. Her nails dug into the railing as if grounding herself against the madness spilling from him. For the world... she was dead. And it was true. No one would come looking, not here.

Her tears slid silently down her cheek, but she forced herself not to let out a sound. Not in front of him. Not when he was this delusional.

Tyler, however, mistook her silence for surrender. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling deeply, whispering as if he had won, "Don’t worry, sweetheart... soon you’ll understand. Soon, you’ll love me back."

Tyler’s arms were suffocating, his warmth nothing but poison. His words dripped with conviction, as though the future he painted was inevitable.

But inside, Jean’s soul screamed.

For the world... I’m already gone.

The thought pierced her chest. She pictured Logan’s face, the way his eyes softened when they looked at her, the way he always reached for her even when she pushed him away. Was he devastated right now? Was he blaming himself for her absence?

Tears burned her eyes. Logan... if you think I’m gone, will you still fight for me? Or will you finally let go of the burden I’ve been on your shoulders?

Her fists trembled at her sides. Tyler’s embrace was iron, but her heart rebelled. She wanted to scream, to cry for help, but her throat locked up every time she tried. It was as though the drug still lingered inside her, weighing down her voice, chaining her to silence.

Hopelessness gnawed at her. If she was in another country, if the police thought she had jumped to her death... who would even think to look beyond the ocean? Who would chase her into this prison Tyler called paradise?

She closed her eyes, leaning into the railing, letting his words fade into background noise. All she could see was Logan’s face, his stubborn, infuriatingly determined eyes.

He never gave up on anything. Never.

And though despair coiled like a serpent in her chest, one fragile thread of hope still burned through her darkness. If there’s anyone who can find me... even when the world says I’m gone... it’s him.

Her lips quivered, but the words never left her throat. Only her heart cried out silently: Logan, please... come for me.