Page 31 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

10

Sky

Liam and his friend walk me back to my apartment.

It wasn’t so much the headline as who.

Whitney’s best friend, Natalie.

He probably doesn’t realize. He thinks I’m just upset that another Ashburn girl was taken. While that is unsettling, it’s the fact that this time I know her. We have a class together. My roommate is her best friend.

She and I have rotated in similar circles for the last two years, ever since Whitney invited me along with them to Howl. For the record, that wasn’t the best impression I could’ve made.

My phone has been eerily silent. No one’s called to see how I’m taking the news. No check-in from Whitney, either. The news must not have reached my parents, but I’m not in a rush to tell them about this.

Mom will want me to come home.

Dad will insist to let the police do their jobs, that the school will take care of us.

And Mom would retort that clearly the school isn’t taking care of us, as two girls have gone missing in the past three weeks.

I swallow. My hands are in my pockets, but they’re clammy and frozen. We approach my building’s walkway, and Liam’s friend stops.

I glance at him, but Liam’s hand on my back propels me forward. He focuses straight ahead, but the muscle in his jaw tics intermittently. We stop at the door, and I pull out my keys. They slip through my fingers, crashing to the concrete steps.

He snags them and unlocks the door. Everything is blunted—my emotions, my senses. I don’t even have enough wherewithal to be alarmed at Liam’s accompaniment. Or the fact that I’m not freaking out.

I mean… I am freaking out, but I’m not. I can’t feel it. I know my body is shaking, and I keep scanning the street like someone’s going to hop out of a black van and chuck me into it. But my fear is wrapped in whiskey-soaked cotton, dulling the edge of it just enough for me to be okay.

To survive it.

Liam still has my keys, and he doesn’t hesitate to let us in and type in the alarm code.

Whitney should be home. It’s early enough in the day that she would still be here, getting ready for her later classes. The apartment is empty. Silent. I don’t know why it’s eerie, except for maybe the fact that I could easily imagine Whitney missing in Natalie’s place.

What’s the difference?

What separates Whitney from Natalie from Amber Huck from me?

Nothing, as far as I can tell.

“Sit,” Liam says.

I cross to the window and put my hand on the glass. It was just snowing the other day, and frost still clings to the outer pane. After a moment of contemplating the rows of brownstones stretching out across the next six, seven blocks, I sit on the couch.

One of my favorite blankets, hand-knit by one of my high school friends, is draped over the back of it. I wrap it like a shawl and tuck my chin into it. I make myself as small as possible—legs drawn up, arms and blanket wrapped around.

I can’t get warm.

Liam sets a glass of water on the coffee table, scanning the room. “Where’s your roommate?”

I shrug.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he states.

“She’s my roommate’s best friend,” I whisper. “It’s not the fact that there’s another girl from our small school missing, it’s….” I stop and take a breath. “I know her. Whitney will be devastated. The article—”

“Oh, yes,” he interrupts, cutting me off. “I didn’t finish reading it. Did you?”