Ronan's POV
I sighed. The hallway was cold, silent. Her door, locked. I knocked, a quick, sharp rap. No answer. I tried her phone again. Straight to voicemail. My jaw tightened. She was hiding. Or worse.
Marcus and Jess arrived within minutes, their faces etched with concern. Jess's eyes, usually bright with playful sarcasm, were wide with alarm.
"She's not here," I stated, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Door's locked. No answer on her phone."
"Okay, don't panic, Ronan," Jess said, though her own voice trembled. She pulled out her phone. "I'm calling everyone. Her former coworker, Sarah. Our old hangout spots. Anywhere she might run to."
"She ran from you, Ronan," Marcus observed, his gaze sharp. "Not from Chad, not really. She ran from you because of Chad. The way you stepped in.
