Will scrubbed hopelessly at his own wet cheeks. Sorry? God in heaven. It was taking everything he had not to beg for her forgiveness, the black tide of guilt roiling within him with a susurrus of you failed her you failed her you failed her. His guilt was his own to wrestle. Clio had fought long enough.
So he drew in a shaky breath and nodded instead. "He's right outside, love. We came in together. We've been searching day and night, the whole time." There was another question hovering beneath the surface of her words; he could see it in her eyes, and he fought the sick tide to answer, "He told me everything. I'm sorry, Clio, I'm so sorry."