My chest tightened, thoughts crashing into each other too fast to keep up with.
“And now she’s out there,” I snapped, spinning back toward him. “Becca’s gone, and God knows who the fuck has her or where she ended up, and that’s not even the worst part.”
Izzy didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to.
“Where the fuck are the rest of them?” I demanded. “Girls don’t just vanish like that. Not that many. Not without someone opening a door for them.”
“I don’t know—”
“Bullshit,” I cut him off instantly. “That was too clean. Too fucking clean. Someone knew something.”
I forced myself to stop pacing, planting my feet and trying to think instead of just react.
Think.
Who was there. Who heard what. Who shouldn’t have been listening.
“The auction…” I muttered, my voice lower now. More dangerous. “That conversation with my father… we weren’t alone.”
My mind started replaying it whether I wanted it to or not. Every face. Every movement. Every second.
Who walked in.
Who lingered.
Who stayed just a little too long.
My stomach twisted.
“No…” I whispered, shaking my head, but the name was already there.
Sarah.
“She wouldn’t fucking—” I cut myself off, but even I didn’t fully believe it.
“Who?” Izzy asked.
“My best friend,” I snapped, but something in my voice sounded off even to me. “She was there earlier. But she doesn’t know anything. I don’t tell her shit about the business.”
So why the fuck did her face keep coming back?
Why did it feel wrong?
Why did everything feel wrong?
I pressed my hands to my temples, breathing hard and trying to force it to make sense.
“This doesn’t happen without someone talking,” I muttered. “It just doesn’t. Not like this.”
Now the anger was mixing with something else.
Something worse.
Because if it wasn’t Sarah…
Then who the fuck was it?
