Following my order, he grabs his phone and calls this friend. After uttering a few words in a low voice, he hangs up. “He’s coming,” Aaron says, body angled toward the tree farm. One of his feet is tapping the ground repeatedly. “He was working today.”

“Okay.” Keep his mind busy. “Now I need you to think about all the places she could possibly be. Things she likes to do, places she likes to visit, friends she might have mentioned in the past…”

“Ma already looked everywhere. If she’s not anywhere, then…” He bites his inner cheek, gaze drifting again.

“Aaron,” I say sternly, a hand reaching for his wrist. “I need you to focus. You won’t get anywhere by worrying.”

He swallows.

More softly, I say, “She’s okay. She probably just decided to be a kid and do something stupid like go somewhere new without telling her parents.”

His eyes are on me, listening to my words like he needs to believe them. Good.

“She’s okay,” he repeats in a low voice.

I give his wrist a squeeze.

A pair of boots hitting the ground makes me turn around. The guy, who I assume is Aaron’s friend, looks to be in his late twenties, with a buzz cut and a strong build.

“Hear anything?” he asks as he reaches us, sounding out of breath.

Aaron shakes his head.

“I’m Wren, the family’s lawyer,” I tell him, not bothering to shake his hand. We have more important things to do right now.

“Finn,” he answers, giving me a curt dip of the head before he gives Aaron a worried look.

“Okay, Finn,” I say, “I need you to go back to Callie’s school and try to find people who might know where she went. Kids, teachers, parents, whoever you can find. Some people might still be there.” Martina probably left in a hurry after she didn’t see her, so it’s a good idea to return there. “Aaron and I will drive around town and try to look in other places we might’ve missed.”

“On it,” Finn says before disappearing toward one of the trucks parked in front of the large garage.

Now alone, I turn to Aaron and ask, “Okay?”

He nods. “Thank you.” The two words hang heavy between us in the air.

“Of course,” I answer, meaning it completely. Aaron’s a good one. His family’s a good one. They deserve all the help they can get.

“All right,” I say as I start walking toward Aaron’s SUV. “I’ll drive, you’ll look.”

He doesn’t argue with me, instead handing me his set of keys. I climb in the driver’s seat, then take a second to adjust it to my height before I start the car and drive into town.