“Chill,” I say before he can finish that threat, passing the phone back over. “We’re not monsters.”
He barks a laugh. “Bullshit.”
“Maybe she just needed a break from your codependency,” Ford suggests, smirking.
Bryce’s gaze flicks between the three of us, wild and searching, like he’s trying to decide which of us he hates most. Or which he should be most afraid of. The answer, of course, is all of us– for different reasons.
“Where is she?” he asks again, quieter now. His anger seems to have burned off a little, leaving something raw underneath. Real worry, real fear.
I glance at Ford, then Raf. We hold the line, keeping our expressions locked down tight.
“She’s fine,” I say, voice smooth and reassuring. “Just in time-out. I’m sure she’ll be in touch soon.”
Ford reaches into his pocket and comes up with his butterfly knife, flipping it between his fingers with lazy precision. “You have two seconds to walk out of here before it gets bad for you,” he murmurs.
Bryce stiffens. For a second, it seems like he might actually push back. Thankfully, he thinks better of it, jamming his phone into his pocket and storming for the door, shoulders rigid and jaw tense.
The moment he’s gone, the Bistro erupts into low, excited whispers.
More fodder for the rumor mill, another fucking issue to handle. I scrub a hand over my jaw, irritation curling tight in my chest.
How did this day go to shit so quickly?
The three of us exchange glances, then Raf pushes back his chair and rises. Ford and I follow without a word and we all move toward the exit as a unit.
“The fuck was that?” Ford grumbles under his breath as we pass through the doors.
“Not here,” Raf snaps, not even slowing.
The walk back to Sutton Hall is pure tension. No commentary, no jokes. Not even the usual complaints about the cold biting through our coats. We’re each lost in our own heads, turning the same questions over and over.
Did Ava actually leave campus?
And if she did– where the fuck would she go?
Our boots pound against the stairs as we climb all the way to the top floor, the sound echoing through the stairwell like a countdown.
For half a second, I let myself believe that when we walk in, she’ll be there. Curled up on the couch, hair spilling over the pages of a textbook. Ready to declare victory for a game well played.
The fantasy dies the moment we step inside.
The apartment is so silent it’s almost oppressive. Once the door shuts behind us, we finally have the privacy to speak freely, but nobody does. We move on instinct, all three of us heading straight for Ava’s room. Raf nearly takes the door off its hinges as he bursts inside.
It’s neat and tidy as usual, the bed made, the room vacant. We fan out, searching anyway, even though none of us can quite say what we’re hoping to find.
“Her toothbrush is gone,” Ford calls from the en-suite bathroom. “Hairbrush, too.”
I duck my head into the closet, scanning quickly. “Didn’t she have three suitcases when she moved in?” I ask. “There’s only two in here.”
Raf stands in the center of the room, fists clenched like he’s about to punch a hole through the drywall. “She’s not fucking hiding,” he snarls. “Sheleft.”
“How?” I ask, brow furrowing. “She couldn’t get off campus without us knowing. Security has her flagged.”
“She obviously had help,” Raf spits. “Or she found a workaround.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, even though the evidence is stacking up fast. I look to Ford as he steps out of the bathroom. “Pull up her tracker.”
“But that takes the fun out of it,” he says, pouting.
