Ryder felt sick with everyone watching him eat.

The tray Katie had brought sat on his lap like it weighed a hundred pounds. He forced down a few bites, not because he wanted to, but because he could feel the air in the room changing—like the moment he stopped, everyone would panic again.

His throat tightened as he swallowed. His eyes stung. He hated that the first thing he did when he finally let people in was sit there like a child being monitored.

Mayor Goodway stood near the doorway, arms folded, her expression hard but worried.

"You are not going to hide in here anymore, Ryder," she said firmly. "We are going to face this. Chase would want you to move forward, not shut yourself off from the world."

Ryder's spoon froze midair.

Something inside him snapped.

He slowly set the spoon down, then lifted his head and glared at her, eyes bloodshot and furious.

"Who are you to tell me what Chase would want?" Ryder spat. "Who are you to tell me what to do at all?"

Mayor Goodway blinked, caught off guard by the venom in his voice.

Ryder stood up shakily, fists clenched, the grief in his chest turning sharp and ugly. "I just lost my best friend. My first. The one thing that kept me alive when I was a kid. And you're standing here telling me to 'move forward' like this is some town meeting."

Mayor Goodway's mouth tightened. "Ryder—"

"No!" Ryder shouted, voice cracking. "Get out!"

The room went dead quiet.

Mayor Goodway stared at him for a long second. Then she nodded once, slow and controlled, not backing down but not escalating either.

"I understand you're upset," she said, voice lower. "But I will not allow you to ignore your responsibilities forever. You can yell and scream at me all you want, but I'm not giving up on you."

Ryder trembled with anger, grief, exhaustion—everything he couldn't control.

Mayor Goodway turned and left his room.

Jake and Carlos exchanged a look. They didn't try to talk over Ryder's emotions. They simply stepped out after her, leaving him breathing hard, eyes burning, feeling disgusting for the way he'd lashed out.

The door clicked shut.

Ryder was alone for barely two minutes before it opened again.

His pups filed in quietly.

Not bouncing. Not loud. Not playful.

Just five small, heartbroken bodies that looked too tired for their own ages.

Rocky was the first to speak, voice careful.

"Ryder, sir... we know you're hurting," Rocky said. "So are we. But we need to talk."

Ryder didn't respond right away.

He watched them climb onto the bed, and when Skye stepped forward, Ryder's chest caved.

She looked... empty.

Her wings drooped. Her eyes were dull. There were dried tear tracks on her fur. She didn't even try to smile.

Ryder couldn't ignore that.

He climbed off the bed, limping slightly from how stiff his body was after two days barely moving. He shut the door behind them, then turned back and—without warning—pulled all five pups into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," Ryder whispered, voice breaking immediately. "I'm so sorry. I've been a horrible leader. I shouldn't have shut you out."

Zuma pressed his head into Ryder's chest, shaking.

Marshall's ears flattened and he sniffled quietly.

Rubble stared up at Ryder like he was afraid Ryder would disappear too.

Skye barely moved, but Ryder felt her leaning into him, just a little.

"I feel lost without him," Ryder admitted, crying again. "I keep thinking it's my fault. I told him to go into that building—"

Rocky cut in gently but firmly. "Not you too."

Ryder blinked.

Rocky shook his head. "No. We're not doing this. It's not one person's fault. Chase makes his own choices. And you know he would have gone in anyway."

Ryder swallowed hard.

Rocky continued, voice raw. "We all miss him. But this—what you're doing—this isn't what Chase would have wanted."

Ryder looked down at his pups, shame burning under his grief.

Zuma shifted forward, nervous but determined.

"We... we have a theory," Zuma said. "At least I do."

Ryder's eyes lifted. "What?"

Zuma took a breath. "I don't think he's dead."

The words landed like a shockwave.

Ryder's face went blank.

For one terrible second, hope surged so hard it hurt.

Then reality slammed in.

"What do you mean?" Ryder asked, voice hoarse. "Zuma... don't do that. Don't give me—"

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Zuma said quickly. "Just listen."

Marshall nodded, wiping his eyes. "Let him explain, Ryder."

Zuma swallowed. "Marshall said there was no sign of a struggle inside the building. No blood. No—no pieces. If it was a bomb and Chase was in there... there should've been something."

Rocky's ears lifted. "And his collar and tag weren't destroyed. They were just... there."

Skye finally spoke, voice barely audible. "It doesn't make sense."

Ryder stared at them.

His breathing got shallow.

"...If he was blown up," Ryder whispered, "there would be evidence."

Marshall nodded. "Yeah."

Ryder's eyes snapped to Marshall. "Why didn't you say this sooner?"

Marshall flinched. "Because I... I didn't want to sound like I was in denial." His voice cracked. "But I kept thinking it too."

Ryder's hands shook. "So—someone took him."

The room went quiet.

Then Marshall spoke again, hesitant.

"And Mayor Goodway told us... Humdinger is out of prison."

Ryder's head turned sharply. "What?"

Rocky nodded grimly. "She came here earlier. She said it."

Ryder went still.

Humdinger out of prison.

A bomb.

Chase missing.

Skye hollow.

Ryder's chest tightened like he couldn't breathe.

He didn't say it out loud yet, but the thought was immediate:

He did this.

Downstairs, Katie was pacing in the TV room, hands clasped so tight her fingers hurt. Jake and Carlos were with her, both equally unsettled.

Katie's voice shook. "They're planning a memorial."

Jake rubbed his face. "We shouldn't."

Carlos nodded. "Not until we know."

Katie's eyes filled. "There was no body."

Jake leaned forward. "Exactly. That means we search. We don't bury him when we don't even know he's gone."

Mayor Goodway stood near the kitchen island, silent for a moment, then spoke quietly.

"I agree. A memorial can happen later if we have to," she said. "But we don't call it a funeral without proof."

Katie's shoulders sagged with relief and terror all at once. Relief because it meant hope was allowed. Terror because it meant something worse might be true.

Kidnapped.

Taken.

Alive.

In a room across town that Chase still couldn't place, Chase woke up groggy.

His head felt heavy, like his thoughts were wrapped in cotton.

He forced his eyes open, blinking hard.

"I hate this stuff," he thought, throat dry. "It doesn't even help me sleep... it just makes me feel weak."

He shifted on the floor of the cage, testing his muscles. They felt sluggish, like he'd been drugged again.

He looked around.

No one was there.

Good.

Chase stood carefully and pressed his nose to the bars.

I need a signal. Anything. Noise. A sound. A scent. Something someone can track.

He was turning his head, scanning for anything useful, when footsteps approached.

Josh walked in with a bowl.

"I brought this for you," Josh said, sliding it closer.

Chase eyed it suspiciously. "Why?"

Josh shrugged. "Because you'll die if I don't."

Chase's ears twitched. "What's the plan?"

Josh hesitated—just long enough to be noticeable.

"To be honest," Josh muttered, "I don't even know anymore. I was told to keep you here and wait for instructions. So far... nothing."

Chase's eyes narrowed. "So you're a pawn too."

Josh's jaw tightened. "Shut up."

Chase leaned closer to the bars. "They blew up a building. They set you up to take the fall. If you help me, I'll help you."

Josh scoffed. "Help you? So Ryder can put me in jail?"

"I can't promise you won't face consequences," Chase said honestly, "but I can promise you this: Harold and Humdinger will throw you away the second you're inconvenient."

Josh's expression flickered—anger, fear, pride fighting it out.

Chase pressed harder. "You don't hate Ryder enough to die for Harold."

Josh's eyes flashed. "Yes I do."

Chase didn't back down. "Why?"

Josh's face twisted. "Because he stole Katie."

Chase stared. "What?"

Josh's voice rose. "I wanted her first. She never even looked at me. She looked at him like he was the sun."

Chase went very still.

Then, carefully, he said, "You were cruel to Ryder when he was younger."

Josh flinched.

Chase continued. "Do you ever think... if you'd been nicer, if you hadn't tried to make him miserable, maybe she would've seen you differently?"

Josh's hand clenched. "Shut up, mutt."

Chase held his gaze. "You know I'm right."

Josh snapped. "I'll knock you out again."

He turned abruptly and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Chase exhaled hard.

He wasn't free.

But he'd cracked something.

And that meant there was a chance.

Up at the lookout, Ryder was staring at his pups like he'd just woken up from a nightmare and realized it wasn't a dream.

Finally, Ryder spoke, voice low and controlled.

"You think Humdinger did this?"

Rocky nodded. "It fits."

Ryder swallowed. "Why does he always want to hurt me?"

No one answered.

Because the truth was ugly.

Some people didn't need reasons beyond jealousy and spite.

Ryder stood up.

His body still felt heavy, but his mind was clearing fast now—like grief had flipped into a new gear.

He walked into the bathroom, splashed water on his face, changed into clothes that didn't smell like two days of despair.

Then he came back out, eyes hard.

"Pups," Ryder said. "I'm going to confront him."

Skye's head snapped up. "No."

Ryder held up a hand. "Please stay here. Please."

Marshall's voice shook. "Ryder..."

Ryder knelt in front of them, voice softening for a second. "I lost one pup already. I will not lose another. I won't let any of you get hurt."

They whimpered, but they nodded.

Ryder opened the door and walked out into the hallway, trying to move quietly.

Katie noticed him immediately.

"Ryder," she said, stepping forward. "Where are you going?"

Ryder forced a calm voice. "I just need air."

Katie's eyes narrowed—she knew him too well. "Let me come with you."

"No," Ryder said quickly, then softened. "Katie... look. I don't hate you. I just... I need time. Please understand."

Katie swallowed hard, then nodded. "Okay. But be careful."

She kissed him gently, and Ryder left.

Ryder drove to Foggy Bottom.

When he arrived outside Humdinger's lair, he got off his ATV and walked straight up to the doors.

His voice echoed in the empty air.

"MAYOR HUMDINGER! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE. LET ME IN!"

The doors opened with a slow creak.

Humdinger stood inside like he'd been expecting Ryder.

"Ryder," Humdinger said with fake sweetness. "I'm surprised to see you. I'm so sorry to hear about Chase. How tragic."

Ryder's eyes narrowed.

The sarcasm was there, hiding behind polite words like a knife behind a smile.

Ryder stepped closer. "What did you do to him?"

Humdinger blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I know you did something," Ryder said, voice shaking with controlled rage. "Where is he?"

Humdinger sighed dramatically. "Now now, Ryder. There's no reason to point fingers."

Ryder's jaw clenched.

Humdinger leaned forward slightly. "Do you see any sign of him here? No? Then you can't just go around accusing people without proof."

Ryder's hands trembled.

"I will find proof," Ryder said, voice low and deadly. "And when I do... you're done."

Humdinger laughed. "I'd like to see you try."

Ryder turned to leave, slamming his hand onto the wall like he needed something solid to keep him standing.

Humdinger's laugh followed him out.

"I've done nothing wrong!"

Ryder didn't answer.

Because he had.

And Ryder was about to prove it.

As he walked away, a tiny device remained stuck to the wall—small enough to miss, quiet enough not to be noticed.

A gift from Rocky.

Outside, Ryder drove a short distance, far enough for Humdinger to think he'd left, then stopped.

He activated the device through his pup pad.

And waited.

A second later, Humdinger's voice crackled through the connection.

"Kitties," he purred, smug and gleeful. "Our plan is working perfectly. He has no proof... and soon we will get rid of Chase once and for all."

Ryder's blood turned to ice.

His hands tightened on the pup pad until his knuckles went white.

He whispered, barely able to breathe:

"You're alive, Chase... I'm coming."