Alexis.
It’s been two days. Two long, quiet, gut-wrenching days since Pierce walked out that door and didn’t come back.
No calls.
No texts.
Nothing.
He vanished like smoke, and it’s k!lling me.
I try to act normal. I laugh with Sierra. I cook, clean, even fold clothes like I’m in some peaceful domestic fantasy. But every time I look at the door, hope tightens around my throat—and then dies a slow death.
“Zane hasn’t come home either,” Sierra says softly as we load detergent and fabric softener into the cart. “No messages. No signs. Just silence.”
We exchange a look—shared sadness laced with betrayal and confusion.
“I don’t believe they’d just disappear,” I murmur. “Not after what we told them.”
“Unless someone poisoned them against us,” Sierra replies darkly, and I feel her meani
