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Chapter 9 - My best friend is missing

Isabella's POV

 

 

 I

looked at my best friend one last time. She had a smile on her face, and yet

there were tears in her eyes. And then I rushed after him.

 

 

 "Luca,

wait!" I ran after him, my breath catching in my throat. "Luca!"

 

 

 He

didn't stop. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff as he marched toward his

car like I wasn't behind him, like I didn't exist.

 

 

 "Luca,

just—stop for a second, would you!" I caught up, grabbed his arm. He yanked it

out of my grip.

 

 

 "What?" he snapped, spinning around. "What

now, Isabella?" he yelled aloud.

 

 

 "There's something wrong," I said, voice

shaking. "With Aurora, I can feel it. Can't you see it?"

 

 

 He let

out an unamused laugh. "What the fuck are you talking about? You saw her for

yourself, you spoke to her, what else do you need to hear?"

 

 

 "I

don't think she's okay," I said. "That's not the Aurora I know. That's not the

girl you know. Aurora would not just uproot her life for another man just like

that, it's crazy," I shook my head in disbelief. "You couldn't even get her to

move in with you in the first place, why would she—"

 

 

 He

shot me a glare.

 

 

 "I'm

sorry," I apologized, "but now I'm supposed to believe she has moved in with a

man she met only months ago and she's in love with him? That doesn't make

sense!"

 

 

 "She's

probably known him longer," he snapped. "I mean, she's a cheater. What's to say

she isn't a liar! I mean, it goes hand in hand, doesn't it?"

 

 

 "No,"

I said firmly. "That's not Aurora. She never hides anything from me, and I mean

anything. She would have told me about him."

 

 

 He

rolled his eyes. "You're overthinking. You're always overthinking. You heard

them, you heard her, why would she lie about that?"

 

 

 "That's why I think something is wrong! She

could be in trouble, for all we know. We don't know who that man was. She never

spoke of him before, but now she's what? In love with him?"

 

 

 "You're delusional, Isabella," he said through

gritted teeth. "It's so hard for you to accept that your good friend is a

two-timing bitch who plays with people's hearts, and now you're—"

 

 

 "Aurora would not do this!" I cut in angrily.

"And the fact that you don't know this speaks to your relationship."

 

 

 He

chuckled dryly. "You never really liked the two of us together, Isabella.

There's no need to pretend that you do anymore," he retorted.

 

 

 I

inhaled deeply. "That doesn't matter now, Luca. Aurora may be in great danger,

and she needs our help."

 

 

 "I'm

sure you can swoop in and save the day as always!" he snapped. "You're

overthinking this, Isabella, and frankly, I'm done!" He yanked the car door

open, hopped in, slammed the door shut, and sped off, leaving me alone with my

thoughts.

 

 

 But I

wasn't overthinking. I knew her. And this wasn't like her.

 

 

 Last

night, around the same time I usually got her goodnight text, I'd been waiting,

with my phone in hand but nothing came.

 

 

 Earlier that evening, everything had been

normal. We had spent the whole day together. She was always sad on the

anniversary of her mother's death, and I never failed to cheer her up. I even

helped pick an outfit, fixed her hair for her, and sent her off with kisses.

 

 

 We

texted on the ride, up until she was at dinner with her father.

 

 

 I had

waited until minutes turned into hours. I started texting and calling, but

there was nothing.

 

 

 Around

midnight, I called her father, but I couldn't reach him either.

 

 

 I'd

started panicking and called Luca. He didn't pick up at first. When he did, he

didn't take it seriously. "No, I haven't heard from her." That was all he said.

 

 

 "Well,

call her!" I'd snapped. "Isn't she your girlfriend?"

 

 

 I

rushed over to her apartment. It looked ransacked, drawers were not closed

properly, a lot of items were knocked over, like someone had rushed in and out.

I asked the neighbors, but they hadn't seen anything.

 

 

 I

stayed up that night, curled up on the couch, trying every number she ever gave

me. I called friends, old contacts, her dance coach, even her stupid dentist.

Nobody had seen her.

 

 

 I

must've passed out sometime around dawn.

 

 

 When I

woke up, I still hadn't heard from anyone. And that feeling of dread at the pit

of my stomach hadn't left. That's when the message came. From her number.

 

 

 Hey

Isabella, let's meet at the Café Latte. 10 a.m.

 

 

 It

didn't sound like her. She never called me Isabella. It was always Bella, or

any other variation, never Isabella. We have our favorite spots to hang out,

and she had chosen a café way out of town. And there were no emojis, no kisses,

no hearts, no I love you.

 

 

 A loud

horn drew me back to the present.

 

 

 The

silence after Luca left made everything feel worse. I just stood there, arms

limp at my sides, heart pounding in my ears.

 

 

 Something is wrong with my friend.

 

 

 I

didn't wait. I flagged down the next cab that passed, waving frantically.

 

 

 "Police station," I said breathlessly.

"Downtown."

 

 

 The

driver nodded without a word.

 

 

 As the

city blurred past the windows, I tried to steady my breathing. Who was that

man, and what was Aurora doing with him? I asked myself.

 

 

 I

tapped my fingers against my thigh the whole ride, biting the inner corner of

my mouth. I wasn't going to sit around waiting. If nobody else believed me,

fine. I was going to do something anyway.

 

 

 When

we pulled up, I barely waited for the cab to stop before swinging the door open

and rushing inside.

 

 

 The

front desk officer was an older man, small and hunched behind the counter,

squinting at a stack of forms.

 

 

 "I

need to file a complaint," I said, breathless.

 

 

 He

looked up slowly, blinking. "About what?"

 

 

 I

stepped forward, voice steady now. "My best friend is missing."

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