47. Too Late
Zander
I called her four times before I let myself admit something was wrong.
The first two, I told myself she was still angry and she had every right to be, if she had heard even half of what Reaper and I talked about and none of the context around it. I figured she needed the night. I figured I would let her cool off and fix it in the morning, because that's what you do with someone you love who's hurting and doesn't know the whole truth yet.
By the third call, straight to voicemail, that story stopped holding up.
By the fourth, my hands weren't steady anymore.
I was standing in the common room running through every version of where she might be; her apartment, her friend Jess's place, anywhere… when Ghost wandered past with a beer in his hand, half paying attention.
