Callum's POV
"Father… I need your help." The words tumbled out of me, raw, trembling with desperation.
He gave me a puzzled look, the same one he'd worn since I walked in. He hadn't expected to see me like this. For weeks he had begged me to visit, always asking when I'd come home, and I had always refused. I'd hidden behind excuses—assignments, school projects, but the truth was, I hadn't wanted to come home.
Now here I was, standing before him, not as the strong son he had raised—but as a broken man begging for help.
His brows furrowed. His voice was low and curious. "Callum… what's going on? Why do you look like this?"
My chest rose and fell heavily. I could barely keep the tremor out of my voice. "It's her… she's gone."
The air shifted. He stilled, eyes narrowing, confusion flickering. "Gone? Who?"
