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“Yeah.”
“Of the hotel?”
“That’s what that usually means, yes.”
“Hazel checked out of the hotel?” I ask. “She still has another night booked.”
“Right. But she’s not here. And she’s not with you. And it’s the day before her wedding, so...”
I frown. “Uh-oh.”
“Head of the class, big brother.”
I force myself to take a deep breath. This doesn’t mean anything. There are many other reasons why Hazel would check out of her room and once my heart stops pounding in my ears, I’m sure I’ll come up with one or two pretty good ones before the panic sets in.
“Thanks, Claudia,” I say before hanging up.
Bobby leans forward as he flicks open his second beer. “What’s up?” he asks.
I don’t answer. Instead, I swipe over to my contact book to call Hazel.
“Hey, you’ve reached Hazel. Leave me a message.”
I hang up and dial again.
“Hey, you’ve reached Hazel—”
I hang up and dial again.
Bobby furrows his brow. “Should I be doing something helpful right now?”
I look at him as Hazel’s message plays in my ear again. “Hazel’s gone,” I say.
“I gathered,” he says with a nod. “Where do we start looking?”
I open my mouth to speak but stop as my phone gently vibrates with a new text message.
I’m sorry.
It’s from Hazel.
I reply back quickly.
Answer the phone.
I dial again but it just rings and rings.
“Goddammit, Hazel...” I murmur.
I send out a flurry of new texts, some full of nonsensical typos, begging for her to talk to me.
Finally, she sends one back.
I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.
I collapse into the nearest chair at the table and stare at my phone until the words become unrecognizable.
I can’t marry you?
