Paul’s POV

I raced to Nathan’s apartment. I tried calling Madison several more times, and it went to voicemail automatically. Something is wrong, I know it. When I got to Nathan’s building, the police had the front of the building taped off. My eyes are drawn to a large pool of dried blood and a crumpled-up, fluffy pink jacket lying on the concrete. Fuck. That’s Amelie’s jacket. Nathan must be going insane with worry.

I pull my car around to the back to go to the underground parking, and a police officer stops me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the officer stated. “Only residents and guests are permitted in the building at...