I press the call button with trembling fingers, staring down at the glowing contact name on my screen. The old bastard’s number. The only one who claims he can help me get her back. The phone rings, each dull tone hammering against my skull until his voice growls through the line like gravel scraping asphalt.

"What?"

"What to you?" I snap back, my tone dripping with bitter frustration. "You said if I gave you my court documents, you could make it so she had to ...