Simone had leftthem with Julian’s files. Sybil wasn’t quite sure what to do next, but Simone was too overwhelmed with the logistics of what she was dealing with in the wake of her father’s death to handle anything more.
“We’ll take care of this,” she had said to Simone as she was headed out the door, back to Julian’s apartment for the night and the foreseeable future.
“I’m going to try to, I don’t know, see if my work will let me move up here,” Simone said. “I have to deal with the apartment. And, just, all of his stuff. A memorial. The cat. And I didn’t know what else to do with this. I thought you might—”
“Honey, really.” Sybil placed both hands on Simone’s shoulders, which started to shake. “This is ours now. Don’t even give it a second thought. But text me as soon as you need help with anything else, okay?”
It was all awful, wretched, horrific. But at least Sybil could be put to work. That’s what she did best after all.
An hour later, they were sitting at Zeke’s breakfast nook. Sybil felt as if the world had just been tilted off its axis, not just with Julian’s death but with Betty too.
“I didn’t even ask her,” Sybil said with a start. “About the hit-and-run. If they found the guy.”
Zeke ran his hands over his face. His right arm was bending now in ways it previously couldn’t, and Sybil made a mental note, even in this chaos, that he was improving. That he could make his way back by spring. He didn’t see it, his progress, because he was so disinterested in actually embracing it, like his brain wanted his body to stay stagnant, and his body, a miraculous work of art, was healing itself anyway.
“I’m worried about Betty,” Zeke said. They’d each tried her twice since Simone left, and their texts were marked as delivered but unanswered. “Should I go up to the diner? Or…I mean, I don’t even know Caleb’s last name. Do you?”
“No,” Sybil said. “Fuck. He works at Morgan Stanley though.”
“Don’t ten thousand people work at Morgan Stanley?”
“Let me text Natalie. Her ex-husband used to work there. He owes her.”
Sybil shot a quick text off asking if her ex could search the bank’s directory, and surprisingly, Natalie wrote her right back, even though it was nearly threea.m.
Natalie:I’ll make him. Why?
Sybil:We want to make sure Betty is ok.
Natalie:Did something happen? I didn’t want to say anything butshe didn’t show for the audition I had set up.
Sybil:WDYM?
Natalie:Huge national audition. They loved her look. Set for today at 3:30. Never showed.
Sybil:She didn’t let you know or cancel?
Natalie:Nope, not a word. I covered for her bc I think she could still land it but she hasn’t returned my calls.
Sybil:ok thanks, why are you awake?
Natalie:why are you?
Sybil:life
Natalie:exactly
Sybil handed her phone to Zeke, so he could read the exchange.
“Zeke, I think Betty could be…missing.” She didn’t want to be dramatic, but none of this felt right, and she’d listened to enough podcasts to pay attention to her intuition.
“Missing?” The color drained from Zeke’s face as he rereadthe texts. Her phone buzzed again, and his cheeks flushed as he handed it back to her.
Natalie:are you with that hot piece of ass
“Oh shit,” Sybil said, her own cheeks pinkening.
“I don’t assume that was about—”
