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B: She’s gone, Nix. My mom is gone.
B: She was just lying there. I thought she was sleeping… Call me as soon as you get this. I need you, Nix. Please… call me.
B: Where are you? I’ve been calling you and the guys for hours. I’m scared, Nix. I’m at the police station and they won’t let me come home. What am I going to do? She’s gone and I… God, I can’t believe this is happening. How can the best night of my life become the worst? I hate it… Please, call me.
B: Nix… you’re scaring me. Why aren’t you answering me?
Then the most recent message, sent almost thirty minutes after all the others.
B: Nix, where are you? I need you. A man came to get me. He claims he’s my father. He wants to take me home with him. He wants to take me away. Nix… I know things are weird between us, but I need you… please.
Father?
What the actual fuck?
Harleigh didn’t have a father… She’d never even met her piece of shit sperm donor.
I checked the time.
Almost ten thirty.
It had already been almost four hours since she’d sent her last message.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My fist flew out connecting with the wall and pain ricocheted up my arm.
“Nix?” Jessa rushed into the room, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Nix,” she cried, dropping onto the edge of the bed, and pulling me into her arms.
“She’s gone.” My voice cracked. I didn’t accept that, couldn’t accept it.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I promise.”
