When I land in Philadelphia, the first thing I do is contact Harper’s family.

They own this town, although most people don’t know it. The Gallo Crime Family is the most powerful mafia in Philly, and they’re violent, dangerous bastards. Harper had nothing good to say about him, and I’ve always blamed them for her problems.

She grew up in some shit circumstances. She had an abusive father, horrible brothers, and a bunch of mafia scum always around her. She remembers violence and crime was a way of life, even as a young girl. She used to think being a mafia princess was a great thing, but that quickly soured as she got older.

I remember when we first met. I knew she was running away from something. People don’t move out to a small California town for no reason, especially when they don’t know anyone. It took me a while to learn what Harper was running from, but eventually she opened up, and I was horrified.

Now I’m on their home turf, but I can’t help it. My son’s here, I can already feel it. I’m like a starving man finally finding a bit of food for the first time in a long time. I feel stronger, more alert already. I feel like I’m coming out into the world.

I don’t want to get involved with them. I wish I could pretend like they don’t fucking exist, but I know there’s no other way for me to find my missing son without at least giving them a call.

I haven’t tried them in two years. I called early on, when Harper first went missing. I got her brother Enzo’s number from her computer, but he didn’t seem to give a shit if she was alive or dead. He blew me off pretty fast, and I just never bothered with them again after that.

Now’s different, though. She was actually here, and so was my son. I find a relatively quiet spot, hunker down, get out my phone, and dial the number. It rings a few times, and I’m suddenly afraid that it’s disconnected and I won’t be able to reach these people at all.

But suddenly, he answers. “Who’s this?” he grunts right off the bat.

“This is Connor Hunt,” I say. “Harper’s ex.”

The voice is silent for a second. “Connor, huh,” he says. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

I recognize Enzo’s voice. “You made it clear last time that you didn’t know where she was.”

He laughs a little bit. “Yeah, well, she’s been dead to us for a while. I guess she’s just dead for real now.”

I feel a strange spike of sadness, but it quickly vanishes. “How?” I ask.

“Drugs,” Enzo answers right away. “Got an infection from a shit needle and ended up dying in a hospital near town. Called her cousin Leah to look after her but that didn’t do her any good.” Enzo laughs again, and I feel a little sick.

“Leah?” I ask. “That name sounds familiar.”

“Sure, Leah, from a different part of our family, the Terry side. They don’t get along with us Gallos, but I bet you know why.”

I grunt in response. “My son,” I say finally, getting to it. “Where’s my son?”

Enzo’s silent for a second. “Shit,” he says. “I forgot you were the dad. I thought you were just another guy she’s been fucking. We’ve gotten a few calls, you know.”

I wince but I don’t want to go down that path. I know I won’t like what I find there.

“Is he okay?” I ask. “I’ve been trying to find him for years, Enzo.”

“Yeah, he’s okay, but…” Enzo trails off a second. “You can’t see him.’

“What?” I feel both elated and horrified. My son’s alive, he’s fucking alive and safe and… I can’t see him. “He’s my son,” I say almost stupidly.

“Yeah, well, see, shit’s complicated.” Enzo sounds nervous now. “I told you too much already. Look, the kid’s fine, okay? He’s taken care of. You can just fuck off back to California.”

Enzo hangs up the phone then. I’m in total shock for a second. I try to call again but he just ignores me. I call a few more times, and he ignores every single one. I try texting, but nothing. I stare at my phone and I want to fucking break it, smash it, but I don’t.

My son’s alive. That’s why I don’t smash it, because my son’s alive, and he’s here. He’s in Philadelphia, or at least I think so. I can’t tell if the Gallos have him or not, or where he is. But my son’s alive.

I sit there and I have to bite back the tears of joy that threaten to overwhelm me. All this time I thought he’d be dead or worse somewhere, abused and broken, all because of his fucked-up mother. But he’s alive, and he’s here.

I’m so close to him, I can practically feel it.

It takes me a while before I can think clearly again. The traffic in the airport ebbs and flows around me, but I don’t see any of it. I’m elated, horrified, excited, a million different feelings all at once. My son’s here, the son that was stolen from me in the night, he’s here and he’s alive. I’m so close.

Finally though, I come to my senses. Enzo isn’t answering me, but he did give me one other name I can look into. Leah Terry is Harper’s cousin. I do remember Harper mentioning the name Leah once or twice, apparently they were friends when they were young girls or something, but I didn’t realize they were cousins.

I get out my phone and I log on Facebook. It takes me a minute or two before I find Leah’s profile page, but most of her information is private. It does say that she’s in Philadelphia, although it doesn’t say where. I add her as a friend on a whim before searching some more.

I find out that she’s a nurse. I find out that she’s smart, went to a good school, and she’s pretty. She’s really fucking pretty, like Harper, but less skinny, not so strung out and tired. Long, thick blonde hair, bright blue eyes, fit but still curvy, the kind of woman I’ve always been attracted to.

I can’t seem to find a phone number or an address for her online, and she’s not answering her phone. Out of desperation, I decide to call a guy I know in the police department back home, the only guy that’s been helpful at all during this search these last two years.

“How’s it going, Joey?” I ask him.

“Hey there Connor,” he says. “You holdin’ up okay?”

“I’m good,” I say. “Really good, actually. Listen Joey, I think I found him.”

He pauses and doesn’t say anything. He’s heard this before, and he’s probably skeptical and sick of it. “What’s the story?” he asks finally with a sigh.

“Listen, Google ‘Harper Gallo obituary’ right now for me, okay?”

“Shit,” he says softly, but I hear keys clicking in the background. “Oh shit,” he says. “Wow, I’m so sorry Connor.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But skip to the bottom. You see that?”

He’s silent for a second before laughing. “Holy shit. Ryan’s in here.”

“He’s in there. Look Joey, I’m in Philadelphia right now. I think my son’s here. I called Harper’s brother, but he blew me off. He did mention that Harper’s cousin, a girl named Leah, was there with her at the end. She might know something.”

“Holy shit,” Joey says, laughing. “I honestly can’t believe this. Do you know how often a case this cold turns anything up?”

“Never,” I say. “But he’s here, Joey. He’s really here.”

“What can I do?”

“I need an address for Leah Terry of Philadelphia. Can do you do that?”

He’s quiet for a second. “Ah, fuck. I shouldn’t, but I’m going to. That all you need?”

“That’s it,” I say. “I can do the rest.”

“Find your son, okay, Connor? Fuck, and keep me updated.”

“I will.”

He rattles off an address not long later, an apartment in Catharine Street in south Philadelphia. I thank him, hang up, and stand. My heart’s beating fast as I head outside, hail a cab, and give him this girl’s address.

My head’s spinning as we drive down the highway before dipping into the city. I’ve never been to Philly before. I spent all my life out in California, so Philly’s a strange beast to me. It’s old, dirty, grimy, but it has character. It’s an ugly day, raining and overcast, but people are still walking through the narrow, one-way streets like it’s nothing.

The cab drops me off out front of the apartment. It looks like every other house on the block, nondescript and tucked back into the row of them. I head up the stoop and pull open the outer door. The inner door’s unlocked too, so I head upstairs toward apartment number three, barely able to contain myself. I should be collapsing with exhaustion, but I’m buzzing with excitement instead.

I stop outside her door. I realize that I don’t know what I’m going to say, and this woman doesn’t know me at all. I guess it doesn’t matter. I have to try.

I knock on the door. There’s a pause, and I knock again.

“Coming!” her voice says from inside. I hear her come to the door and look out the peephole before opening a crack. “Yes?”

“Leah Terry?” I ask her.

She nods, face tight. She’s even prettier in person, wide blue eyes, thick, full lips, heavy blonde hair in loose curls down along her shoulders and back.

“I’m Connor Hunt,” I say. “I knew your cousin, Harper.”

She blinks. “What about her?” she asks.

“I, uh, was with her, out in California.”

Her face is blank, so I keep going.

“We uh, we had a baby together, his name is Ryan. I’ve been looking for him for two years, ever since Harper took him and disappeared. I got your name from Enzo Gallo…”

I trail off. As soon as I say Enzo’s name, her face closes off entirely. I think there was a flicker of recognition when I started talking about Ryan, but that’s all gone now.

“Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know anything about this.”

“Please, I was told you were with her—” I start saying, but she just shuts the door in my face.

I stand there for a second, totally shocked. I didn’t expect her to slam the door in my face.

“Please,” I say loudly, and knock again. “I just want to talk.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m calling the cops,” Leah says from inside. “You can talk to them.”

I gape at the door for a second. “Shit,” I say softly. I turn and walk away, back halfway down the steps.

I stop there in the stairwell. I feel like I hit a goddamn dead end. Leah isn’t going to talk to me. Apparently, she isn’t on good terms with Enzo, considering the way she reacted when I said his name. She’s my only lead, and now she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

But no… I’m not giving up. I’ve been trying for two years. I’ll give her some time to process and I’ll try again. I’ll find a hotel nearby, get myself settled, get some sleep… and then try again. I’m not giving up. I’m not walking away.

My son’s so close. I can feel him. And I’m going to get him.