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“She’s not here,” I said, my voice already wobbling. “I can feel it.”

Luke rested his hand on my shoulder, his warmth penetrating my hoodie. “Don’t think too far ahead. She could be out looking for supplies. Visiting. You said other people might still be here, right?”

“As far as I know. I haven’t spoken to her since before she got sick.”

I turned the key and pushed the door open.

Out of habit, I flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. The familiar hum of the fridge had stopped, and the red light on the TV was no longer illuminated.

I rested my axe against the nearest wall as Luke came in behind me, closing and locking the door.

The curtains were half drawn, and her apartment still had that warm, inviting feeling that had nothing to do with the temperature.

The same mismatched furniture decorated the space, pieces from decades ago mixed in with the new, along with the odd bits and pieces I found too fussy but she loved to collect.

I moved deeper into her apartment, then stopped, my knees locking in place. A photo of our parents used to sit on the entertainment unit, but the space was bare. I spun around, breath stuck in my throat. Her coats weren’t hanging on the hooks by the front door either.

“No,” I said, the word wrenching from me. “She hasn’t gone out somewhere. She’s gone.”

Luke rested his weapon beside mine, his eyes soft and searching. “What makes you say that?”

I gestured at the TV. The space below it. “The photo that used to be in that spot. It’s not there anymore.”

“A photo?”

“Of our parents. They’re dead—in case you’ve forgotten.”

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, and regret rushed in. He’d left his dying mother in England.

“Hey.” He crossed the room, stopping close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off him. “You’re upset and confused, but you don’t need to be mean.”

My fingers clenched and released at my sides. Too many thoughts crowded my mind. “Sorry,” I said. “That was harsh. I’m just… I don’t know what to do.”

Luke didn’t touch me, but his jaw unclenched. “We’ll figure it out. Someone in the building has to know something.”

“If there’s anyone left.” I couldn’t remember which level Tim and Varesh lived on. Sadie had been friends with a married couple and their daughters, but I didn’t know them, and I had no clue which apartment was theirs.

How much noise had we made in the car park? Wouldn’t someone have heard?

My gaze landed on a solar lantern on the coffee table, then the tablet beside it, angled so it faced the green velvet couch. A note was stuck to the screen, written in Sadie’s neat script.

“Oh, my God.” My breath hitched as I rounded the couch and ripped off the post-it note. “She left a message for me.”

“What does it say?”

“Sorry I missed you. Mum’s birthday is the passcode. Turn on and press play.”

She’d drawn a wonky love heart and a smiley face underneath.

With a broken laugh, I unplugged the tablet from its solar power bank and backed onto the couch, following her instructions.

The moment her face appeared on the screen, I choked on a sob.

She was paler than I remembered, with bruise-like smudges under her eyes. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled back, her ponytail draping over her shoulder.

Still Sadie, but different.

She sat on the same couch I was on now, in the same spot. How long ago had she been here?