He tried calling Maxi to ask if he’d check the security system on his phone to see if Tia had entered the house, but it was New Year’s Eve. Maxi had probably stayed up to ring in the New Year and was now sleeping off the champagne. Aiyana didn’t answer, either. She’d invited her grandchildren over for a New Year’s party so that the adults in the family could go out and was, no doubt, caught up in the kitchen making hot chocolate bombs or something else to show the kids a good time.

All he could do was rush back to Silver Springs and hope to find Tia safe and sound. If she hadn’t beaten him there, he’d call the police in both places and get some help trying to find her.

The drive seemed interminable. He tried to distract himself by listening to music, but certain songs were too hard to hear. When “Without You” by Harry Nilsson came on, he had to switch it right away. He didn’t even know how that song had gotten on his playlist. He could only guess that Shiloh had put it there, and he’d never noticed because he had such an extensive library.

But the weird thing was that it didn’t make him miss Shiloh—it made him miss Tia.

“What have I done?” he muttered, over and over.

When he finally pulled through the gate at Maxi’s, it was after one. As he’d come through town, he’d seen a few revelers who were still celebrating New Year’s. The Blue Suede Shoe had been packed. But there wasn’t a lot going on anywhere else.

He couldn’t believe he’d started the New Year by hurting Tia. He couldn’t have felt worse, especially after he drove down the driveway and found her car gone. “No!” he exclaimed and smacked the steering wheel as he brought the truck to a stop and cut the engine.

Although he knew the chances were highly unlikely, he’d hoped someone had stolen it and that he’d find her inside. He could buy her a new car.

He raced into the house calling her name, but she wasn’t there. Neither were her things. He found the earrings he’d given her laid out on the counter, along with the mirrored trees, some instructions on how to care for Kiki—as if he hadn’t helped her do it the past couple of weeks and wouldn’t already know—and a note.

His throat tightened, making it hard to swallow, as he opened the envelope.

Dear Seth: