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“So…we got her let go from her job, and she needs to find a new place to live?” I croak, wrapping my hand around the back of my neck and squeezing hard. She must be so lost with all this happening at once, and we contributed to it. I feel ill.

Felix whistles, the sound loud even through the phone. “That sounds like a lot for one person to deal with. Anyway, I found him, this Peter guy. Nothing flags up as suspicious in the messages between them. His last one was for her to go to the office on Friday to collect her stuff. You said you last saw her on Thursday?”

“Yes,” Noah confirms. “Max checked in with her office, and he said she wasn’t there.”

“Well, the messages say otherwise, so it could be that Max has more information. Is he there?” Felix asks.

“No, he was out last night and hasn’t resurfaced. But we’ll ask him.” I nod, not relishing the conversation. Hungover Max is a lot grouchier, and combined with his aversion to talking about anything to do with Rosy…

“Okay, I’ll spend more time digging through her laptop. I’ve got the details for the company she worked for, so I’ll see if I can find more on them, and I’ll check the nearby security cameras. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that might be relevant, send it straight over.”

Brushing my chest, I try not to feel too despondent over the lack of progress. I don’t think I expected to find anything right away, but I still hoped we would.

Once Logan hangs up with Felix, he runs us through some questions for us to report Rosy as missing, then he stands, picking up the laptop and her phone to take with him.

“Look, I get this is hard for you all. Just let us look into things and find her. Your role is to think through anything that might’ve seemed odd recently, anything different, out of her routine, or that could be useful to help us. Send over a list of people she regularly interacted with so we can speak to them. I know you checked already, but we will call ‘round the hospitals again too. I’ll keep you updated when we know more,” he says, clasping Noah’s shoulder before we all head out.

TEN

MAX

Hammering on my door pounds through my brain, and I groan. Whoever it is gives up waiting and barges in.

“Get the fuck up, Maxi,” Nate demands.

I turn my head and curse as nails slide through my skull. I’m on my front, sprawled across the bed, and I want nothing more than to drop my head back into the pillow and suffocate so I can’t feel any more.

Drinking seemed like a good idea at the time. It muted the shitstorm of emotions inside. Now that it’s worn off, I’m left with a killer hangover that’s trying to claw me piece by piece into hell. And everything I’d tried to drown out is still there.

“Get dressed and get up.”

Fabric hits me in the face. I sigh in relief as it blocks out the light, but a lingering smell of whisky and beer has me shoving it away, gagging.

“What the fuck, bro?” I retch again. Pushing back the covers, I shakily get to my feet.

“Don’t need your fucking dick swinging at me. Put some clothes on and come talk.” Nate says, then spins and stomps back out.

He’s so loud.

It takes a minute of stumbling around before I’m able to locate some cleanish clothes. I make it out of my room, into the kitchen, and my stomach perks up, almost able to override the pain in my head.

“Is that bacon?” I whine, dropping onto a stool and squinting at Bry.

“It is. With hash browns, scrambled eggs, and cheesy toast,” he announces, then slides a plate of greasy, salty goodness over to me.

I don’t even bother with words. I salivate and shove a slice of toast into my mouth. It hits all the fucking spots.

Groaning loudly, I take a bite of the hash brown and let my eyes fall closed as I taste the perfection that is Bry’s homemade creation. I still feel like death, but at least if this hangover takes me, it’s with a full stomach.

“Now that you’re somewhat satiated, we need to ask you some questions about what happened when you went to Rosy’s office yesterday,” Noah asks as he leans his forearms onto the surface next to me.

The mouthful turns dry and bitter. Did Bry add something different to the eggs? They feel hard to swallow.

“Why? She’s gone. What does it matter?”

“Answer the fucking questions, Max. Don’t have time for your bullshit,” Nate snarls, and his fist thuds down on my other side.

“Fuck you. I don’t need any of this shit. So I can’t ask questions, but you can?”