The next day…
Dylan stirred awake. His gaze fell upon Ava, who lay nestled beside him, sleeping peacefully. A tender smile curved his lips. He couldn't resist leaning in, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek.
Ava murmured in her sleep, her arm instinctively wrapping around his waist. But she didn't wake up. Dylan chuckled quietly, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear. His fingertips lingered, trailing down to her parted lips.
Just as he leaned closer, ready to claim a kiss, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
It was Justin.
"Why is he calling at this time?" He gently got out of bed, careful not to wake Ava. He reached for the wheelchair, easing into it with practiced movements. Once in the hallway, he answered the call.
"Hello."
"Sir—bad news." Justin's voice was taut with urgency. "Lydia fled last night."
"Damn it. How the hell did that happen?" Dylan growled.