“Yes, but—"
“And you are her boss, aren’t you? In a position of power over her career, so to speak?”
“That’s not—"
He interrupts again. “Let us do our job. If the mother isn’t concerned, I don’t know why you should be.”
“Because she’s fucking missing! She doesn’t have her phone; her car was unlocked; she’d been receiving creepy notes from someone at her place of work, dammit. Just please don’t write this off. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” I grip my phone so tightly, I feel like it could crack at any moment. My lungs are scorched, my heart racing. I bend over for a moment resting my free hand on my knee, desperately trying to catch my breath and calm my racing pulse.
“Are you feeling okay, Dr. Adams? We can send someone over there to check on you.”
“I’m fine, I’m stressed obviously. I want her back.” I lift myself up, scraping my palm down my face.
“Dr. Adams, you know there is one more person that could have left her those notes, like you said.”
“Who?” I rack my brain trying to think. What use is studying the mind for the last fifteen years if I can’t even get a handle on my own thoughts?
“You, Alfie,” he says softly. “My colleagues never asked you this last night because it didn’t occur to them. But did you hurt Miss Sinclair?”
“It’s Dr. Sinclair, and no, of course not. I love her.”
I love her.
I love her.
Oh my God.
This is my fucking fault. Everything that’s happened in the last five days is completely and utterly of my own doing. If we were still together, this never would have happened. She would have been staying at my place and nowhere near her house. Okay, a few hundred yards away, but still, I could have protected her, but I didn’t. I chose to protect myself instead. I put myself above her.
“People do a lot of things to the people they love. I’m sure you know that, given your profession.”
“That’s not—that’s not what happened here.” He’s accusing me of doing something to Mia. Of orchestrating this missing persons case. They’re not even going to try and find out what happened because they assume that I’m the one that’s hurt her. “I have to go. Please keep looking for her.”
I hang up before he can respond.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mia
Iwake up in bed with a pounding headache, my head feeling like it’s been split open. The one where your eyes are throbbing so much it hurts to open them. My sheets feel different. They’re new, stiff, like they’ve never been washed before. The crease from being in the packet is folded slightly against my leg. The sun is warming my face through the window from the wrong side. Wasn’t I just about to meet Lottie to tell her I accepted the position? Maybe my subconscious finally told me to hurry up and accept the job.
I shift slightly and feel a warm body next to mine.Alfie.What is he doing here? And where is here? I roll over, my hand reaching for him. My head is still groggy, my eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun, but I feel him through the cotton T-shirt he’s wearing. His body leans toward me, but he smells different. Off, yet familiar too. My eyes blink open as I scrunch my brow. I'm trying to focus on what’s happening. Didn’t Alfie break up with me? How did I end up in bed with him?
I lift my chin, fully opening my eyes now, and blind panic crashes through me. I lurch backward, nearly careening off the bed that’s barely big enough for the two of us.
“Carter?” I look around me, wondering if somehow I’d woken in an alternate universe.
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, his hands reach out to my face, stroking my cheek with the back of his forefinger.
“I’m so happy you’re here, sweet girl,” he croons as bile rises up my throat. That fucking nickname makes me want to hurl more than the woozy sensation I’m feeling right now. What the hell is going on?
I look around again. The bedroom door is shut, the window shut too. But it’s barely springtime, so that’s to be expected.
“Where am I?” I ask lamely.
“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” He jolts, his finger swiftly moving away from me.
Think.
