Caleb's POV
The gas station had been another dead end. Mason and I drove away from there feeling more defeated than when we arrived. The cashier remembered seeing a girl who matched Riley's description, but she had bruises on her face. The thought of someone hurting her made my blood boil. He couldn't tell us which direction she went, leaving us with nothing but more questions.
We decided to make a detour through a small town we spotted on the map. The main strip was quiet except for one place that still had its lights on. Rocky Saddle Bar sat at the corner, its neon sign flickering against the dark sky. Only a few cars were parked outside, which seemed about right for a weeknight in a place this size.
Inside, the bar was more crowded than I expected. The lighting was dim, casting long shadows across worn wooden floors. Most of the patrons looked like locals who probably walked here from nearby houses. Mason and I found two empty stools at the counter and settled in.
