Chapter 2

Naomi's POV

By the next morning, I couldn’t speak anymore.

But when Ian stood outside the taped-off perimeter at the port, he had no idea who the body on the ground was—the one burned so badly it didn’t even look human anymore.

I watched him pull on gloves, his face as cold and efficient as it always was when he stepped onto a scene. Rosa Bennett was crouched at the edge of the blackened area, not even looking up as she reported, “Female. Roughly twenty-five to thirty-two. Incomplete burn. Clear signs of relocation.”

Caleb walked over with an evidence bag. “There’s metal residue around the ear. Looks like an earring clasp. And—” He glanced down, voice tightening a fraction. “Tissue remnants in the pelvic and uterine area. Early pregnancy indicators, preliminary.”

Ian only gave a short hum and leaned in to study the drag marks in the grit. “Classify her as a missing person match for now.”

“And this.” Rosa held out a scorched fragment of a clear document sleeve.

Only half the print had survived: Anniversary Dinner, Seaport Grill, 7:30 PM.

Ian’s hands paused for half a second.

“Just a dinner reservation.” He passed it back, his tone too flat. “This city has hundreds every night.”

Caleb pulled out a second bag. “Shared calendar fragment. Looks like a cloud printout that got burned. The name didn’t survive, but you can still see… ‘Nao…’ and then it cuts off.”

Rosa finally lifted her head and looked at Ian. “You don’t look so good.”

“Didn’t sleep,” Ian said.

Then he turned to check the warehouse lock, but I knew him too well. He didn’t seem to realize it himself—his grip on the clipboard had tightened until his knuckles went white.

More remnants were brought in from the outer perimeter. Caleb crouched by the portable table sorting through them, then let out a low whistle. “Custom earrings. There’s a brand stamp on the fragment. High-end.”

Ian didn’t turn around. “Send it to forensics.”

“Already did.” Caleb stared at the laptop screen. “And here’s another one—near what looks like the victim’s clutch, they found a burned paper scrap. Like a printout from a medical office. You can still make out ‘OB intake.’”

Rosa stood up this time. “An obstetrics intake form? Pregnancy appointment?”

“Looks like it,” Caleb said. “If we can restore it, it’ll narrow things down a lot.”

Ian finally turned, his voice dropping darker. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“No one’s jumping,” Rosa shot back, eyes locked on him. “We’re collecting evidence.”

He didn’t respond. He crouched again, examining the circle of ground around the body where the heat had cracked the surface. I watched him move closer. Watched him avoid the left hand—burned and twisted out of shape. Watched him work like he always did, focused, methodical, every inch the dedicated detective.

And still he didn’t realize—

The person who’d begged him not to hang up last night might be lying right here.

Until the coroner’s assistant lifted a small evidence bag from beneath the white sheet.

Inside was a half-melted earring clasp. On the back, a pale blue gemstone had survived—scorched, but not gone.

Caleb flicked his eyes over the system and said casually, “I’ve seen this brand. Private custom line. They were huge last holiday season. Not many orders. We can pull the buyer list from the department family database.”

When Ian took the bag, his fingertips visibly trembled.

Rosa caught it immediately. “What’s that about?”

His throat worked once. He still handed it back. “Nothing. Keep matching against the missing persons list.”

But a few minutes later, the forensics center’s initial screening came through.

Female. Height range. Occupational wear markers. Recent early-pregnancy signs.

All of it lined up—high probability—with Naomi Reed.

Only the final identity confirmation was still missing.

The scene went so quiet the only sound left was the ocean wind skimming over the police tape.

Ian stared at the name like it didn’t register. Caleb frowned at the screen, then added under his breath, “That earring’s brand code… it’s the same line you ordered, Ian.”