“Okay. I’ll cancel your meetings for the day and please don’t worry about anything at the office. Just take care of whatever is going on and keep me updated.”

I bite my lip and nod. Matthew and I rush out of the restaurant.

It’s an hour later that I find myself face to face with a man by the name of Sheriff Ryan Stevens. He matches the rough description of millions of men on this planet. Sandy brown hair kept high and tight in typical, ex-military-turned-police fashion adorns his head, sitting just north of his intense green eyes. These eyes have seen a lifetime of experience already and show as much fatigue as the rest of his face. The detail that I notice the most, though, is how he carries himself. This is a man in charge; this is a man who cares about his work; and this is a man not to be crossed. Despite the lethargy and years of abuse to his body by his line of work, his spirit is matched by none, even deputies half his age.

I’m seated across from him in a small, disorganized office. Matthew is waiting for me in reception. I wanted him in here with me, but not until I knew what was going on. I still am unclear, and I have yet to see Adam, but I’ve been assured that he is all right and that I will be able to speak with him after I’ve talked to the sheriff regarding the incident my husband was involved in.

“Mrs. Morgan, thank you for your patience,” Sheriff Stevens says.

“Sarah is fine.”

“Ryan is fine as well.” There’s a bit of snark in his voice, but there’s kindness in his eyes. Whether that kindness is for me or not, I don’t know.

“What is going on?” I cross one leg over the other, leaning back in my chair.

“I need to ask you a few questions before you see Adam.”

“Okay.”

“Was Adam with you last night?”