Hey everyone! Thank you all so much for reading :) This chapter is somewhat short, but I'm already halfway done with the next one so it'll be up very soon! I tried writing in Christian's POV several times but I had to keep erasing and starting over; I really felt I couldn't capture his character, so I decided to go with Ana instead. I hope you all enjoy!

Ana's POV…

"You fucking lost them?" I hear Christian scream into his cell phone from across the house. I've taken refuge in my library that we had built for me when we moved here all those years ago. I've barely left this room since I found out Phoebe was gone. I haven't been able to eat, or sleep. Christian has spent the majority of the time in his office ordering security around and making desperate phone calls. The worst was when he fired Mason. I was so mad at him I had to leave his office before I threw something at him. Mason had been with us since Phoebe was a toddler, and I know she had grown to love him like a family member.

The night Phoebe and Christian had gotten into a fight, Christian had gone to check on her and apologize after he had cooled down. But instead, he found the note. I'll never forget the look on his face; a horrible mix of fear, sorrow, fiery anger, and betrayal. It took me an hour to cool him down before we could even sit and discuss everything that had happened. My reaction was split three ways; fear, of what would happen to her. Pride, in her ability and wits to sneak away without getting caught; believe me, I know what it's like to feel smothered by the security. And third, a feeling I feel somewhat guilty about and haven't discussed yet: anger at Christian for smothering her so much as to make her feel the need to run away. It had always been a subject of argument for me and Fifty; Phoebe's safety. Of course I want her safe, she's my one and only daughter. But I'm more than willing to give her space and independence. Christian, on the other hand, never wanted to let her do anything or go anywhere on her own.

The house is suddenly silent and I know Christian is done screaming at Taylor on the other line. It's awkward to hear, seeing as his children and wife live in their own suite in the house. Probably too far away from Christian's office to hear. A shiver runs through my body, despite the hot July night. Oh Phoebe, where are you? I just wish she would give us some sort of hint as to where she was or what she was doing, just so I could know she was safe. She's smart, and strong, which makes me feel better. But she's also naïve and inexperienced, which makes me worry and overanalyze and come up with horrible scenarios in my head. Another shiver makes me reach for my tea on the coffee table in front of me. Gail has made it weak, and black, just the way I like it. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with the need to be held. I put the mug back down quietly on the table and shuffle down the hall to Christian's office.

I open the door slowly, and my heart nearly stops. Oh, my poor Fifty. He's seated at his desk, with his head in his hands, and I can tell by the way his shoulders are shaking that he's crying. In all our years of marriage, I've only seen this man cry a handful of times. It pulls on my heartstrings and makes me feel as though I've been punched in the gut. He hears me enter the room and looks up at me, and I've never seen him so upset. I walk over to him and wipe the tears from his handsome face, and his him gently on the top of the head. He leans back in his seat so I can curl up in his lap like I always do. He wraps his arms around me and I'm greeted with such a sense of comfort. All the emotions I've been holding in burst and I'm sobbing into his chest. Our baby, gone. This is a pain like nothing else. He kisses my hair and I nuzzle closer into him.

It seems like an eternity before Christian finally speaks.

"Taylor lost them."

"Where did he see them?"

"A hotel in Idaho. Well, he only saw Alejandro. I knew that kid was trouble." I hear the anger rising in his voice.

"This isn't Al's fault. He's a good kid and you know it, Christian. Just be thankful he's there. He'll keep a good eye on her."

"I don't like him." He sounds so stubborn, childish.

"That's because he's a teenage boy that's in love with your daughter."

Christian practically growls with anger.

"I just want her to come home. I'll do anything to get her back." I hear his voice crack. I hate seeing him like this, so broken and vulnerable.

"Me too." It's silent for a few minutes. "What's happening now?"

"Taylor's headed to New York. We don't know what way they're going since Alejandro ditched his car at the hotel." I look up at him, his eyebrows creased in agitation, his mouth set in a frown. "Phoebe left her phone in a trashcan in Portland to try and throw us off. We know they're headed in the general direction of Times Square. I have her face on every news station, and I've hired more people to look for her." His voice cracks again. I hold him tighter. We sit in silence for what seems like hours, and there's no call from Taylor or anyone else. Eventually we decide to go upstairs to bed, even though it's useless. Neither of us will sleep until our baby is back home.