Tiffany was roused from her slumber by the commotion. “Mm? News of Ari? Oh, uh, wait! I’m — yawn — coming with, um, you...?”
Jackson took one glance at her eyelids, which refused to open, and tucked her back under the sheet. “It’s all right, honey. Go back to bed,” he cooed. “I can go there alone, I’m only heading to Mark’s place, anyway. But you, sweetheart? You better get enough sleep. Remember, we’ve got our brats to take care of during the day. Better not worry yourself dead over Arianne, okay?”
Without further ado, Jackson rushed to the Tremont Tower after the call. Turned out, a short drive was enough to make a man perk up and feel refreshed.
“Is Mateo really, well... not-dead?” he asked straight off the bat.
Mark passed the earring to him. “An anonymous sender delivered this to our doorstep today. It was one half of the pair Arianne was wearing on the day she went missing. I bought it for her, so I distinctly remember that there was no strange four-letter word on it during purchase. But now? The one delivered to me had an extra ‘M-T-E-O’ engraved on it. In addition to that, there was a note attached. Come, over here.”
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