The line clicked, and a voice came, clipped and strict, every syllable weighted with old resentment. "Mr. Smith."
Kane's jaw tightened. "I need you. Isadora is missing. The storm has buried her trail. I can't do this alone."
A pause, then Colin's tone sharpened, carrying that string of emotion that revealed their fractured bond. "You think calling me now erases years of silence? This isn't personal, Kane. It's family. And family has debts."
Kane's fury flared. "This isn't about us. She's out there, and every second counts."
Colin's voice was iron, but beneath it was a tremor of something heavier. "I'll help. But understand this — I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it because when this storm clears, you'll owe me. And I intend to collect."
The line went dead. Kane stood in the rain, blouse fragment clenched in his fist, knowing the search had just become more dangerous, not only for Isadora, but for the price he would pay when this was all over.
