Her suitcase. It’s gone.
And all that remains of Sybil is one false eyelash, winking up at me from the empty bed.
4
THURSDAY MORNING
(Two days before the wedding)
NIKKI’S ROOM IS THEfirst place I look for Sybil. It’s very possible, I tell myself while crunching along the pebbled path from our cottage to Nikki’s, that Sybil just headed to the spa without me. It’s not what was on the itinerary, which clearly read:
Meet at Emma and Sybil’s at 8:15 a.m. Walk to the spa for 8:30 a.m. appointments.
Sybil loves an Irish goodbye, but she wouldn’t Irish goodbye herwedding. People don’t do that.
Except I know for a fact they do. People walk out of their lives all the time. My dad did. I ignore the thick bubble ofanxiety in my chest. Sybil is not my dad. But she has bailed on two other engagements before…
I knock on Nikki’s door a little more forcefully than I mean to, but Nikki opens it with a smile. For a moment it feels like everything might be back to normal, and I’m sure that I’m overreacting about Sybil. “Is she with you?”
“Who?” The false optimism I’ve been clinging to with my fingernails drops away.
“Sybil.”
“No, we’re supposed to meet at y’all’s place.” She gives me a very serious look. “It says so on the schedule. I’m almost ready. If you wait a second, I’ll walk with you.” I follow Nikki inside as she fills a tote bag to take to the spa.
“Have you heard from her?” I ask. “She had a little bit of a meltdown when she got home last night, and now she’s not in her room.”
Nikki’s movements slow, and she turns to face me. “I have to tell you something, and I need you not to freak out.”
“I won’t freak out,” I lie.
“So last night, we went into a bar in town after you and Willow left, and she had a little more to drink.”
“One sec.” Through Nikki’s window, I see Willow waddling down the path, and I wave her inside.
“Are we meeting here? The itinerary said ‘Emma and Sybil’s.’” Willow leverages herself into a white bouclé armchair, and I regret every second that I put into that itinerary.
“The itinerary is done. It’s over. We’re all on Sybil Time now.” I realize that for a weekend all about Sybil, maybe I should have just planned to be on Sybil Time from the start. “What happened last night?”
“Well, Finn suggested we check out this cool tequila bar his friend owns. Apparently Finn invested in it.”
“Heinvestsin things?” I don’t want to be impressed, but I am. I’m barely able to invest in rent and a monthly MTA card these days.
“Focus, Emma. When we got there, we lost Sybil for a little bit, and when she came back, she was pretty upset.” Nikki sinks into the chair next to Willow.
“Youlosther?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Obviously, not permanently!” Nikki raises her hands in exasperation. “I thought she had just disappeared to the bathroom or something, but the rest of the night she seemed so rattled…”
There’s a soft knock on the door, and I lunge to open it, hoping it may be Sybil.
“Oh, girls. I’m glad I caught you all.” Mrs. Rain is standing there in full golf gear. “Sybil just texted me that she’s headed down to San Diego for a facial this morning, but she’ll be back by the welcome party tonight.”
I let out a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived.
“But wait—we already had facials scheduled here.”
“She said she had too much tequila last night.”Finn. “And that she needed a lymphatic massage to get rid of all the puffiness. There’s a woman at the Hotel Del Coronado who is ‘life-changing.’” She makes scare quotes with her fingers, and shrugs. “You know Sybil. It’s probably a sentimental thing. I’m off to hit some balls. You girls have fun at the spa today.”
