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Monday • January 2, 2023 Location • New York City
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I admired the beauty of New York City as I stare down at the glittering lights and snow covered streets, my thoughts running wild as I absentmindedly traced the rim of my glass cup.
Questions plagued my mind since that godforsaken day fifteen years ago, and they've never been answered. Not by the FBI. Not by the government. Not even by hired spies and assassins. And I hired the best of the fucking best.
It's like the two disappeared off the face of the earth.
It was still harrowing to think about my daughter, the one true light in my life. In our life. Every time I thought about her, the void in my empty chest would ache. It physically hurt me to think about my piccola ragazza.
She was the perfect girl. A perfect, naive, and happy two year old child. What did she do? Why did she deserve to be taken? How was her life with her mother, and the guy, John. Was she loved? Protected from the dangers in the world? Was she cherished as she grew up into a beautiful woman?
All I could hope was that, yes, her mother did do everything in her power to keep Hera safe and happy and protected. That she didn't forget about us, her family. That she thought of us once in a while.
Aria wasn't one to put her loved ones in danger on purpose, especially not one of her children. I couldn't even fathom Aria putting her hands on her daughter.
"Dad? You okay?" The familiar voice of my eldest son, Ace, snapped me out of my thoughts.
I sighed, a heavy, stressed sigh. My right hand gripped the short glass filled with whiskey while I rubbed my tired eyes with the other. I gulped down a sip before I spoke, "Just tired."
He assessed me from across the large desk, his dark eyes trying to find any indication that I was lying. He ended up shaking his head because he didn't believe me, but I didn't believe myself either.
How could I? Yes I was tired mentally and physically, because even after doing everything I could, the hope of finding Hera dwindles every time we come up empty.
It's hard not to stay up late at night to think how everything could've went on. I could've woken up before she was taken. I could've convinced my ex-wife that everything would be fine, and that she didn't need to do what she did. I could've convinced her to stay.
"I miss her too, you know? All of us do, in fact. But at the end of the day, we've already searched the whole entire world and shook it to find her. From Iran and Africa to Australia and Germany," he sighed. "There's not much else we can do unless she's either reported dead, or she shows up at our doorstep herself."
