My fear exactly. Guilt tore through my stomach. All of our beautiful and sensual moments turned sordid and dirty. Like we were being punished for stealing these selfish moments of pleasure. “I-I’m sorry,” I said. And I was.

I wished I could rewind time and plan to stay with Dauphine and Madame Pascale until my flight.

I would have been with her. I would have been an extra set of eyes. Extra protection. She would be safe right now.

My hand settled on my belly, feeling the pain and guilt settle deep in my gut. Oh, Dauphine, I’m so sorry. I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “How soon can the boat make it back tonight?” I asked. How many more hours of agony will we endure waiting and unable to do anything to help find her?

“I’m having my helicopter pick me up from Calvi. The boat will follow.”

“Oh. That make sense.” Gesturing to the beach bag I’d packed, I stood. “You should take that. I packed some things for Dauphine for … when you find her. In case it’s late and you have to speak to the police or something. There’s a change of clothes and things.”

“Thank you,” he said and then looked down at his phone, scrolling, his brow furrowed.

The engine of the boat changed, and I knew we were approaching the port. He pulled out a small brown leather bag of his own and threw in some clothes, then took the beach bag I’d packed and reached in to add the contents to his bag. He transferred the monkey and the clothes and the toothbrush.

“And water and a snack,” I prompted. “It could be late. She could be hungry.”

He nodded.

“Wait, there’s also some sketch paper in there. If there’s any waiting around. She might be bored.”

He reached back in and drew out the paper and an old receipt or something that he stared hard at.

“Okay, well.” I wrung my hands. This was agony. I wanted to go with him and be there when he got her back. And he would. He had to. I wanted to hug Dauphine so tight against my heart when he did. But I had to step back and let him do this himself. It was the only way he knew. “Please tell her I love her when you get her back.”

He looked up at me, the small square of paper still in his hand. “Were you part of it?”

I looked at him, confused. “What?”

“I asked, were you a part of it?”

“Of what?”

“Taking her.”

The words detonated between us.

My skin grew cold as the blood in my body seemed to drain away. I was paralyzed in shock, unable to even form a reply. He thought I had something to do with this? Why?

“Are you asking me what I think you are?”

“Yes.”