A Brother's Promise

Heron Rehab’s fingers drummed a restless tattoo against the polished mahogany of his desk. The soft glow of his desk lamp did little to dispel the gnawing unease that had settled in his gut since the encrypted message arrived. The news was predictably grim: the Rehab matriarch, Grandmother Anya, was not content with Kiara’s disappearance. Her tendrils, it seemed, were reaching further, enlisting resources Heron hadn’t anticipated. The mention of certain… unsavory individuals, contacts of Anya’s that Heron had always steered clear of, sent a fresh wave of dread through him. They were the kind of people who didn’t ask questions, who specialized in finding what, or who, was meant to stay lost.

He picked up his phone, the cool glass a stark contrast to his clammy palm. Miya. She was the only one who would understand the urgency, the sheer, suffocating weight of this new development. He dialed her number, the seconds stretching into an eternity before her crisp voice answered.

“Heron? Is everything alright?” Miya’s tone was laced with the familiar concern she always reserved for him and, by extension, for Kiara.