JORDAN
I scowl at my phone as I dial the number on the screen for the umpteenth time since I got back to the State. I know it’s futile but a part of me is hoping for a miracle.
I miss my best friend and I’d do anything to see him again. I’ve contacted a private Investigator and he’s combing the whole city for Peter Volkov. Has he relocated to another city? He’s never for once mentioned leaving New York. Business expansions and vacations, yes, but packing up to another country has never been in his books.
My mind flickers to the last time I saw him. He had accompanied me to the airport. Bade farewell amid hugs and playful punches to my arms.
A black minivan pulls into the spot beside my car. I pay little attention to it as I dial the number again. It is fast becoming an unconscious act
