Where. Was. The. Necklace?
Kitchen counter. I put it on the kitchen counter so I had both hands to clean. I rush over, but nothing is out of place. What if I accidentally threw it away?
I rush over to the trash can, staring blankly at the fresh trash bag for a moment before remembering I threw out the trash last night.
“Fuck.”
I run outside in bare feet and Kai’s jersey, not caring that it barely covers my ass, not caring that it’s cold enough to see my breath. The dumpster sits at the edge of the property, and I flip open the lid with shaking hands.
Empty.
They already picked up.
I stand there staring into the empty dumpster, valiantly fighting back tears.
It was just a cheap necklace.
But it wasmine.
Ours.
And now it’s gone, and Kai’s gone, and I messaged Bastian, and I had a dream about them that made me wake up wet and guilty and hating myself, and?—
My phone.
I need my phone.
I rush back inside and grab my phone off the coffee table where I left it last night.
Still dead, because Haven Lee’s orbit is a miracle-free zone.
And Kai’s charger, which is usually in the kitchen, is gone, too.
Jesus, did I throweverythingaway last night?
Wait…Ihad a charger. Should still be in the duffel bag we collected from GAZ on Monday. But when I rifle through my things, I don’t find it either.
Gone, or GAZ didn’t pack it when they cleared out my side of the room.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
I want to scream. Want to throw something. Want to rewind to yesterday morning when I hadn’t ruined everything by reaching for the one person I should never, ever reach for.
I rock back on my heels, breathing hard, trying to think.
The main house. The owners of this Airbnb live in the main house. Maybe they’re home. Maybe they’ll let me borrow a charger long enough to call Kai and tell him?—
Tell him what?
That I’m sorry? That I fucked up? That I messaged our psycho professor and now I’m fucked in the head because I can’t take it back?
I grab my tote bag and shove my dead phone inside. Tugging last night’s hoodie over my head, I only bother with a pair of leggings and my Uggs before I’m hurrying outside toward the main house.
The cold hits me hard, brisk enough to make my eyes water. Holy crap, it feels like an Arctic winter out here. The sky is a flat gray that promises snow, and the wind cuts through my hoodie like it’s tissue paper.
No car in the driveway. No lights on inside, and it’s dark enough that surely they’d need them.
No answer when I knock, but I knock again anyway, hoping.
