I grab my notebook from my desk drawer, along with my keys, and lock up. I head for my car to drive back home. My mind is racing with all the things that could go terribly wrong in the time it will take me to get home and make sure those photos are where I left them. I will not feel an ounce of relief until I have them in my hands. I don’t know why, but I have this gut feeling that something is horribly wrong.
I hurriedly park, get out of my car, and run to the front door. I fumble with the lock for far too long, immediately turning off the alarm once I’m finally inside. I run right upstairs and into my bedroom, walking over to my bookcase and pulling out the shadow box that’s shelved near the top. The box is designed to appear like a book, but has a little flap on it that opens to a secret compartment. I quickly open it up and gasp, dropping it.
The photos of my father aregone. I search through my security app footage, not seeing anything strange. I grab my phone, sending a text to the only person who can help me right now.
Sloane:Hey. I think someone may have broken into myapartment again. I tried to enter the code Callum gave me and run through the feed, but it isn’t working. Maybe I’m just not doing it right. Do you think you could check them for me?
I’m waiting for a text back when my phone rings. I see “Professor Jerk Face” across the screen. The nickname makes me cringe.
“Sloane, are you okay?” I can hear the panic in his voice, as if he cares.
“Yes. I’m fine.” It comes out a little clipped.
“Okay, I deserve that.” He pauses. “Why do you think someone broke in?”
I consider my answer, knowing I can’t give him the real one. “Um, something that I know I had earlier is missing now.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“Just … something valuable.”
“Right. Look, you don’t have to tell me. I’ll check the cameras for you. Give me a second.” I can hear clicking. “Hmmm,” he says, as I hear a few more clicks.
“What? What is it?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t see anything. Are you sure you didn’t just misplace this … thing?”
“No. I think I would know if I misplaced it, Riven,” I snap, annoyed.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll recheck them, but there’s no unusual activity on the cameras or alarms.”
Am I going crazy? I know that I put them in here.
I sigh. “No, no. I believe you. Maybe I did just misplace it. Thanks, I’m sorry for bothering you.”
There’s a long pause, and I start to wonder if he hung up when I hear his voice again. “Never apologize to me, Sloane. I should be the one apologizing. I truly am sorry for hurting you. I’m in a weird headspace right now, is all.”
Weird headspace? Not buying it. I consider a mouthy response, but then recall my conversation with Callum. “It’s fine. If you want to make it up to me, you can give me Callum’s last name.”
“Why do you want his last name?” There’s a dark edge to his voice. Is thatjealousy?
I laugh. “Not for me … for Lydia.”
He coughs. “Oh, um, Lydia, right. It’s Thorne. Callum Thorne. Any other odd apology requests?”
“Nope. I think that’s it.” I’m about to end the conversation when I hear his voice again. It’s deep, low, and laced with regret.
“Sloane, look. Can we talk in person? I don’t like the way things ended, and to be completely honest, I’m not even sure I wanted it to,” he confesses. His words give me pause. I don’t know if I want to let him back in or make him beg for my forgiveness. I need time to think.
“I don’t know, Riven. I—”
“Tell me you’ll think about it, at least.”
I sigh. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you, Sloane. It’s more than you owe me, I know.”
“Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up before he can say something that makes me drop everything and run to him. Maybe I’ve got a thing or two for broken people.
