“Shh,” I soothed, falling to my knees next to him, and rubbed his back, my own eyes filling with stinging tears. “Shhh. We are going to find her,” I whispered. “She’s all right. She’s going to be all right.”

He leaned sideways, his head finding my lap and his arms coming around my waist. He was shaking—a full body tremble. He was in shock, I realized, and probably also having a panic attack and some form of PTSD episode. I bit my lip as I gave in and cried with him, holding him as tight as I could.

I didn’t know how long we sat like that, but the phone he was clutching in his hand behind my back suddenly rang, loud and shrill.

Xavier jerked away from me.

I barely got a look at his face before he scrubbed it with his arm and got up.

“Oui,” he barked, stalking away. He was still in his swimsuit. “Bon. Immédiatement,” he said and hung up.

Getting up off the floor, I realized he needed some things too. I picked up the pink linen shirt on the bed. “You need to get dressed. Can I help you with anything?”

“Non,” he said. He turned toward me but walked straight by me to the bathroom. He closed the door.

I sank down to the end of the bed, holding his shirt. There was nothing worse than this feeling of impotence to help. I got my phone out of my shorts pocket and thought about texting or calling Madame. My fingers ran over the texture of Xavier’s shirt, and I brought it to my nose and inhaled the comforting scent of this man I loved—the father of the little girl I adored.

Then I started praying.

Please, God. Please let Dauphine be safe. Please touch the heart of the person who has her and ask them to return her to her father, safe and unhurt. He needs her. They only have each other. Losing her will kill him, she’s all he has left. Please, please. Please. Please.

I swiped the tears that had rolled down my cheeks.

The bathroom door snapped open and Xavier came out.

“You’re still here,” he said in a flat voice.

“Have you heard anything more?”

“No.”

I swallowed. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked helplessly.

He gave a bitter laugh as he buttoned his cuff and headed to his desk. Papers were all around it from his earlier frantic search for his phone. “You’ve done enough.”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

He blew out a breath as he leaned down and began gathering paper.

I stood and bent to help him.

“Leave it,” he barked.

I raised my hands. “S-sorry.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have even been here.”