Timothy paced back and forth outside the courthouse. His phone buzzed, and he quickly answered, recognizing the number of his trusted spy.

"What's the update?" Timothy demanded, his voice low and urgent.

"We've located Isabella Cassey," the man responded. "She's at Central Hospital. Here's the address..."

Timothy held down the details in his memory, his heart racing. "Good work. I'll handle it from here."

He rushed down the stairs and got in his car. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, each red light and slow driver intensifying his anxiety. Finally, he arrived at the hospital, parking haphazardly and sprinting inside.

He confirmed the address the moment he...