Anna's POV
The detective's face told me everything before he even opened his mouth.
Three days of searching, and the defeated slump of his shoulders spoke volumes. My fingers dug into the hospital blanket so hard my knuckles turned white.
"Ms. Shaw," he began, removing his hat, "we've found the man who stabbed Mr. Porter and took your son."
For one breathtaking moment, hope bloomed in my chest. "And Benedict?"
The detective's eyes dropped to the floor. "The suspect was found dead in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. He'd been shot execution-style."
The air in the room suddenly felt too thin. My lungs strained against my ribs as I forced myself to breathe.
"And my son?" My voice sounded foreign to my own earshollow and distant.
There was no sign of the infant at the scene."
