I get outside in time to hear an engine come to life, the crunch of tires over gravel. A gray hatchback peels out onto the street.
The chattering voices of the guests grow louder and louder, but my father is quiet. He’s looking in the direction Maggie went, his face drawn and distraught.
“She left,” he says. He’s panting, out of breath, and I step toward him, but Jacob beats me there.
“We’ll go get her,” Jacob says. He clasps a hand around my father’s upper arm.
My dad shakes his head. “She took the car.” He places a hand over his chest, and alarm spikes through me.
“Dad, maybe you should sit for a moment,” I say. “We can go back inside for just a second and regroup—”
“No,” he says. “We need to make sure Maggie’s okay.”
“We can take my car,” I say.
Jacob’s eyes snap to mine, his expression dark. Accusing.
I ignore him, unlocking the car and ushering my dad and Jacob toward it. “Just tell me where to go.”
They talk about it for a moment and decide we should check her house first. Maggie doesn’t have a smartphone, and she isn’t answering calls, so there’s no way to know exactly where she is.
But when we get back to Aberdeen, it’s clear she’s not there. There’s no car in the driveway, no sign that anyone’s home.
“I’m going to call the hotel in Inverness,” my dad says, climbing out of the car, lifting his phone to his ear.
Jacob and I look at each other.
“That’s where they were supposed to stay tonight,” he says.
“How far away is it?”
“By car? More than two hours.” He glances at my father. “Even if she’s heading there, the hotel won’t know anything. She wouldn’t have reached it by now.”
My father’s still talking into the phone, far enough away that the words are faint. I can’t make them out.
Jacob rubs a hand over his face. “What did you say to her?” he asks, his voice urgent and low. “Last night?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No, I just saw her looking upset. After she spoke with you.”
My throat feels dry. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything, really. I just—I told her the truth.”
Tell me something,he said to me that night.Anything. As long as it’s true.
A muscle jumps in his cheek, and I wonder if he’s remembering that too.
“The hotel said that they’ll call if she checks in,” my father says, getting back in the passenger seat. “But I think we should still make our way over there.” He stops. “I know you don’t know her very well, but this isn’t like her, Neelu. She doesn’t do things like this. She…maybe she needed space, or changed her mind, but she wouldn’t do it like this. She wouldn’t.”
My gut churns, lingering guilt coming up to the surface.
“I know, Uncle,” Jacob says. His expression and tone are gentle with my father, entirely different from the way he’s been with me. “We’ll check the hotel next.”
“If we leave now, we might be able to make up some of the time,” my dad says.
“Okay,” I say. I put the car back in drive. “Then let’s go.”
“Don’t you have to fly back tomorrow?” Jacob asks, his brows knit.
