Because if I don’t, I lose my funding, and if I lose my funding, I’m done. Back to being a trailer trash waitress with nothing more to look forward to than tailgate parties and bedbugs.
But with Melissa MIA, I can’t even get notes, so I’ll have to actually show up and sit in his classroom. Meet his eyes across the lecture hall. Pretend I didn’t message him last night like a desperate idiot.
…I know…
My hands are shaking.
I take another sip of coffee, but it’s lukewarm and turning bitter.
Where the fuck is Melissa, anyway?
It’s been five days since anyone’s seen her, according to Abigail.
That’s not ‘went home for a mental health break’ territory. That’s ‘something is seriously wrong’ territory. That’s missing person territory.
And no one seems to care except me.
I look up, scanning the garden.
Abigail and her identical friends are still on their bench, laughing at something on someone’s phone. They look so fucking carefree. So unbothered.
Maybe they’ve heard something by now. For all I know, my friend could have been in an accident, and she’s lying in a hospital bed right now.
I should ask.
The thought makes my skin crawl because talking to Abigail ranks somewhere between ‘root canal’ and ‘standing on a Lego’ on my list of things I want to do. But if anyone would have an update, it’s them. They’re sorority sisters after all. That’s supposed to mean something, right?
I set down my coffee cup and stand, brushing off my leggings before heading their way.
Abigail sees me coming, her eyebrows rising as she says something to the girls next to her. They all turn to look at me and start laughing behind their hands.
Oh. How fucking fantastic.
I’m halfway across the garden, trying to figure out how to phrase ‘have you seen Melissa?’ without sounding like a bitch, when movement at the tree line stops me cold.
I squint into the shadows between the close-knit trunks. The thick gray clouds leave little room for sunlight to pass through, so those shadows are inky black.
But I swear I can see something.
…Someone.
They’re heading to the garden, moving erratically, like they’re drunk.
Likeshe’sdrunk.
The girl stumbles past the last tree, fully visible now, but even then I take a second to recognize her.
Because it’s not just any girl.
It’sMelissa.
What’s left of her, anyway.
Chapter 10
Haven
Abigail and her clones rush to their feet, faces twisted with shock.
