I start reading.
Where are you? I'm at the car like you asked
Vespera it's been 20 minutes, are you okay?
I went back to the theater. No one's seen you
Standard concern. Appropriate for the circumstances.
But then:
I'm getting scared. Please answer
It's been two hours. I called the police. I'm sorry if you're mad but I had to
He called the police. For someone he'd known two weeks. Interesting.
Day 2. Your dad filed a missing person report. He's devastated
How does he know about her father? How close did they get?
My chest tightens. I tell myself it's just data analysis. Pattern recognition. Not the hot spike of something irrational crawling up my throat.
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?
The roof. What happened on the roof?
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache.
Day 5. Marcus canceled the final performance. Said it didn't feel right without you. We're all lost without you
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.
Best person he's ever met. After two weeks.
The repetition of "best" isn't just rhetoric. It's infatuation masked as praise.
Something hot and vicious tears through my chest. I catalog it clinically—elevated heart rate, shallow breathing, tension in shoulders and jaw. Fists clenched so tight the laptop edge bites into my palms.
Anger.
No. Not just anger.
Possessiveness.
Which is absurd. I don't do possessive. I do rational. Analytical. Strategic.
But this Beta—this insignificant, powerless Beta—thinks he has a claim on her. Thinks he can text her, worry about her, remember nights on roofs with her.
I scroll up through the message history, my hands less steady than they should be.
Morning, evening star! Coffee's on me if you're ready in five!
Evening star. He has a pet name for her.
My vision actually blurs for a second. I blink hard, force focus.
