I slowly turned to her, eyebrows lost in my hairline. “Um, pot, meet kettle.”
She glared at me. “My place is nothing like this.”
I huffed out a laugh but didn’t bother arguing with her.
We split up and quickly looked through the small apartment. I’d about given up hope when a flash of movement came out of the bathroom. Out sauntered a new cat.
This one was orange and white.
“Vermont,” I whisper-yelled. The cat snapped its head up and eyed me in a judgmental way.
“What!” Hazel shrieked, not whispering at all. She came barreling at me from the kitchen. “No way! I can’t believe she’d do that. Are you serious? After all the times we had tea together?—”
Her voice stopped as soon as she rounded the corner and saw the cat.
“That’s not Vermont.” Her tone was defeated.
I looked from her to the cat and back to her. “Are you sure?”
She tilted her chin down and blinked slowly. “Yes, I’m sure. You don’t think I know what my own cat looks like?”
“I mean, didn’t you kind of just get him?”
“He was at Gran’s before that, Reid. I’m not an idiot. I can distinguish my grandmother’s beloved cat who was sleeping in my apartment for weeks from a random orange cat Mrs. Edenbury probably grabbed off the street. No offense,” she added to the cat.
The cat sat back and continued to watch us argue.
All that hope, the rush that had just lit up every nerve in my body, vanished in a blink. My heart crashed. I’d honestly thought we had him. I’d thought this might be over.
“I’m sorry, Hazel. I hoped…” My words trailed off as I stared down at her.
“It’s alright.” She waved me off. “In a way, I’m happy he’s not here. It’s nice to know the only person who’s shown me kindness in this apartment complex is not actually trying to extort me.” She chewed on her lip, but despite her words, I saw no relief in her eyes. “Now, can we please get out of here before we get caught?”
We checked a few more hidden corners—under furniture, behind doors, even inside the kitchen cabinets—before finally admitting defeat. No sign of the cat. With one last glance around, we stepped out of the apartment, making sure to pull the door shut securely behind us.
Shit.
I’d been so sure Mrs. Edenbury had been acting suspicious.
But maybe she had been embarrassed by the state of her apartment and that’s why she hadn’t wanted Hazel to come inside. Or maybe I’d been reaching all along—seeing something that had never existed.
I avoided meeting Hazel’s eyes, afraid of the disappointmentI was sure to find there. Silence settled between us. The playfulness from earlier had vanished, replaced by a heavy stillness. Neither of us wanted to talk about how grim the situation was starting to look.
She slung her bursting tote bag over her shoulder, and we headed out. I held open the door to the courtyard for Hazel, but instead of ducking underneath my arm, she dug around in her coat pockets before letting out a soft curse.
“I forgot my car keys on my kitchen table. One sec.”
She unlocked her door, and I leaned against the wall of the vestibule, waiting for her to come back. My eye caught the camera pointed at the entry door. I stared longingly at it, thinking about the other one pointed right at the courtyard. If only that footage hadn’t been erased. If only she’d come to me a little earlier. This whole thing could’ve been solved with clear, simple video evidence. Maybe then the police would’ve taken her seriously.
Now, everything was a mess, we had no help, and time was slipping away.
Then I noticed something.
A small sign just beneath the camera—something the courtyard one didn’t have. I squinted, trying to make out the tiny print. I walked over and stood on my tiptoes, scanning the words.
Something…something…contact us…cloud storage.
Cloud storage.
