CHAPTER 276: VANISHING POINT

When the Rejected Corps decided to take Abby, they made one critical mistake in all of their calculations.

It wasn’t something major on the surface, but it was enough to tilt everything against them. A single misstep, something they had done a little outside the norm, forced by the situation they were in.

Cindy wasn’t a gang member. She wasn’t part of the Underworld at all. And usually, that meant something. Normally, the gangs, syndicates, and secret organizations of the Underworld left the police and government officials alone, keeping them out of certain matters.

For one thing, it was always expensive to deal with them, especially if a cover-up was required. For another, there was always the danger of pushing too far. Every now and then, the government decided to make an example of one group, crushing them to remind the others of where the true power lay.

There was always a chance that the Underworld could suddenly become a target of those kinds of "examples."

And it wasn’t even always about who called the police. If you were in the Underworld, every single person had something to hide, something that could be dragged into the light and used against them. Which was why the safest option was often to just leave people like Cindy out of it.

Not everyone had powerful connections at the very top. And who knew? Maybe someone else you crossed had a higher connection than you did.

But in this case, Abby wasn’t part of the Underworld. She was just a regular girl. Which was why, when she suddenly went missing, her best friend Cindy didn’t hesitate to call the police.

By the time the officers arrived, Abby’s house had already been taped off. Patrol cars lined the street, their lights painting the night in flashes of red and blue. Uniformed officers combed the area, knocking on doors, pulling in eyewitness accounts. The place looked more like a crime scene than a missing persons case.

Even Cindy wasn’t allowed back inside the house. She stood outside the barricade, arms folded tightly, her face twisted with anger and fear.

"You seriously haven’t found anything?" Cindy burst out, her voice trembling with frustration. "She was right on the phone, talking to me, and then it broke off just like that! I called you guys straight away, but it took you forever to even get here!"

Her voice cracked, and she jabbed a finger at the officer in front of her. "You clearly didn’t believe me, and now look what’s happened!"

The officer, tall and stiff in his pressed uniform, tipped his hat a little lower, almost as if trying to shield himself from the full force of Cindy’s glare. He kept his eyes on his notepad, scribbling something down to avoid hers.

"I understand that you care for your friend," he said at last, his voice measured, the kind of tone meant to calm a panicked civilian. "You can be assured that we’re using our full force to get to the bottom of this."

"Full force?" Cindy scoffed, her fists balling at her sides. "Don’t you guys have, like, a million cameras set up everywhere? Can’t you use them to track who took her, or where she went?"

The policeman shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking toward the taped-off house behind him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, clearly wishing someone higher up would come and rescue him from Cindy’s relentless questioning.

"Footage..." he started, his voice hesitant. "Footage takes a while for us to get to. We’re having... difficulties obtaining it at the moment."

Cindy stared at him, her eyes narrowing, because in that moment she could tell, he was nervous. Too nervous. And that meant they were already in over their heads.

"Difficulties obtaining it?" Cindy repeated sharply, her eyebrow arching in disbelief.

Before the officer could fumble through an excuse, a man in a brown leather jacket with a scruffy beard stepped forward and placed a firm hand on the officer’s shoulder. His presence alone carried weight.

"You’re not meant to reveal details like that," the man said, his tone low and authoritative.

"Detective Marvin," the officer replied instantly, dipping his head in respect.

The detective’s sharp gaze flicked to Cindy before he pulled out a small white business card and handed it to her.

"We’ve gathered all the information we can from you," Marvin said evenly. "If you want to help your friend, the best thing you can do is let us do our job. If anything comes up, anything at all you remember or think might help, call me directly. I’ll answer."

Cindy’s fingers closed tightly around the card, though her expression didn’t soften. She had to admit, she had been standing outside for hours, watching countless officers rush in and out, comb through evidence, and question neighbors. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not when Abby was still out there.

She had read online that the first twenty-four hours were the most critical in a missing persons case. Every passing second was like sand slipping through her fingers. The more time wasted, the higher the chance that something awful could happen.

"Cindy!"

Her father’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. A man in a sharp suit with neatly styled blond hair strode toward her, waving her over. His presence immediately turned heads, but his attention was focused solely on his daughter.

"Don’t bother the officers anymore. Come on, let’s go," Warma said firmly. He placed a steadying hand on Cindy’s shoulder, nudging her gently away from the barricade.

She resisted at first, but as he pulled her closer to his side, the fight inside her melted. Tears she had been holding back spilled freely, staining the front of his suit jacket. Warma tightened his arm around her, guiding her step by step away from the house.

"I know you’re worried about Abby," he murmured, his voice gentler now. "Everyone is. But all we can do is whatever we can to help. That’s all anyone can do."

Cindy sniffled, her breathing uneven. Slowly, her thoughts cleared enough for her words to come out steady.

"Can’t you call some of your clients, Dad? See if anyone can help?" she asked desperately. "She has to still be in Brinehurst, right? Somewhere around here, or at least somewhere in the city."

Brinehurst was massive, a metropolis with over fourteen million people. Searching for Abby in it was like searching for a single needle buried deep in a mountain of hay. What could his clients possibly do?

’Well,’ Warma thought grimly, ’there might be one person who could help. But the problem is...I already tried calling him. And no one’s answering.’

Behind them, Detective Marvin’s eyes followed father and daughter as they disappeared into the crowd. He folded his arms, deep in thought, questions circling his mind.

"Her father," Marvin muttered to the officer beside him. "He seemed...well dressed. Did you look into the friend and her family’s connections?"

The younger officer shook his head. "The man works for a financial advisory firm. That explains the fancy suit. Other than being Cindy’s father, though, there doesn’t seem to be any close link to Abby."

Marvin didn’t respond immediately. His brows drew together as a heaviness settled in his chest. Something about this case wasn’t adding up.

’That damned school,’ he thought grimly. ’First two kids die under mysterious circumstances, and now one’s gone missing. This isn’t random. Something’s happening there. Something rotten.’