And then there's Ben.
Ben: 15 calls, 64 texts, 10 voicemails
The texts start confused:Where are you? I'm at the car like you asked
Then panicked:Vespera it's been 20 minutes, are you okay?
I went back to the theater. No one's seen you
Marcus is asking where you are. The scouts are still here
I'm getting scared. Please answer
Then desperate:It's been two hours. I called the police. I'm sorry if you're mad but I had to
Day 2. Your dad filed a missing person report. He's devastated
Day 3. They found your bag backstage. Your wallet and keys still in it. Everyone thinks something bad happened
Day 4. I keep replaying that night. The roof. What I said. Did I scare you off? Was it my fault?
Day 5. Marcus canceled the final performance. Said it didn't feel right without you. We're all lost without you
The most recent is from yesterday:Day 6. I don't know if you'll ever see this but I need you to know - you were the best thing about this summer. The best Medea I've ever seen. The best person I've ever met. And if something happened to you I don't know how I'll ever forgive myself for not making you go to the hospital when I had the chance. Please be okay. Please.
I run to the bathroom, barely make it to the toilet before I'm throwing up. Not much comes up—I haven't eaten enough for that—but my body tries anyway, heaving and shaking until I'm gasping.
When I finally stop, I'm shaking. Sweating. The fever spiking again.
I text Ben first because if I don't do it now I never will.
Me:Ben. I'm so sorry. I'm alive. I'm okay. I had to leave suddenly and I should have told you but everything happened so fast and I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry for ruining the performance. I'm sorry for everything.
I hit send before I can overthink it.
Then I call Dad.
He answers before the first ring finishes.
"Vespera?" His voice breaks on my name. "Oh god, baby, where are you? Are you hurt? The police have been looking everywhere—"
"Dad." I have to cut him off before I start crying. "Dad, I'm okay. I'm safe."
"Safe? You disappeared from a theater in the middle of the night! Your bag was found backstage, your wallet, your keys, everything! We thought—" His voice cracks. "We thought you were dead. Or worse."
"I know. I'm so sorry."
"Where are you?"
I close my eyes. "I can't tell you that."
"What do you mean you can't—"
"Dad, I need you to listen to me. Really listen. Can you do that?"
Silence. Then: "I'm listening."
"It's them. The Alphas from Northwood. They found me."
