Page 84 of The Substitute Fiancée

I go back to the office, but worry begins to grow—dull, insidious. She must have forgotten to charge her phone. That’s all. I cling to the idea.

The afternoon drags on. Meeting after meeting. I try calling her again between appointments. Always voicemail.

At five o’clock, the worry has turned into something darker. An anxiety that knots my stomach. Something visceral.

I send another message.

Alexander: Sam, you’re worrying me. Please call me back.

Nothing.

I start canceling my last meetings. I tell Nina I need to leave early. She looks at me strangely—I never leave early—but she doesn’t say anything.

When I push open the door to my loft around six p.m., everything is dark. No lights. No sound. Too quiet.

“Sam?”

Only silence answers me.

The worry intensifies. She should be here. She told me she was spending the day painting here.

I turn on the lights and cross the loft. The guest bedroom where she set up her studio is empty.

“Sam?” I repeat, louder this time.

Nothing.

I check my bedroom, my bathroom. Empty.

Where is she?

I try calling her again, but now it goes straight to voicemail. Her phone is off. Completely unreachable.

Panic starts to rise. I dial Emelyne’s number. Maybe Sam is with her? But they’re supposed to be in the south of France until January 2nd.

Emelyne answers on the third ring.

“Alexander? Is everything okay?”

“Did Sam call you?”

“No, why? Is there a problem?”

My stomach tightens further.

“I… I don’t know. Sam called me this morning, twice, and since then I haven’t been able to reach her. Her phone is off.”

“This morning?” Emelyne repeats, and I hear the worry rising in her voice. “What time?”

“Around nine, I think. I was in a meeting. I couldn’t answer.” I chose not to.

Silence.

“She was supposed to come pick up some supplies at our place this morning,” Emelyne finally says. “Have you tried the apartment?”

The apartment. Of course. How hadn’t I thought of that sooner?

“I’m going there right now.”