Ethan gently disengaged from Alexandria, letting her take comfort from Victoria's weak attempts at reassurance. His mind was already miles away, locked onto the safehouse coordinates.
"Listen to me, both of you," Ethan said, his voice cutting through their despair. "We are leaving immediately. You both need to take a quick shower and change your clothes. Now."
Alexandria shook her head. "I can't leave her! We need to call the police, we need a plan—"
"You will see Emily soon," Ethan stated firmly, using the promise as motivation. "It would be better if you look presentable for your daughter. Go. Five minutes."
The directive, combined with the focus on Emily, worked. Victoria, leaning heavily on Alexandria, moved toward the small, dingy bathroom.
They emerged five minutes later, still traumatized but clean. Alexandria had put on the cleanest clothes she had, and Victoria was swathed in the largest, cleanest towel they could find.
