and bought coffee for the search teams out of his own pocket.
He spent twelve hours a day at the search headquarters.
He held Patricia Harper’s hand through the worst nights of her life.
And now Detective Wilson watched his face. Trevor didn’t look afraid.
He didn’t look shocked.
He didn’t rush to help the shaking girl on the floor.
He simply stood there and looked at her, a cold, studying look.
Wilson would later write in his report:
“The look of an owner who has seen disobedience.”
Later, in her room, Dr.
Miller sat beside Camila, who rocked back and forth, clutching the blanket.
“It wasn’t just the sound,” Camila whispered. “It was the rhythm.
The way he stressed certain words.
I spent seven months learning that voice in the dark.
