“Has,” I reply. “Here. It was on the table at her stepdad’s house.”

I set Remi’s phone on the table between us, and she snatches it before I even retract my hand.

“The passcode’s…” I trail off since she already has it unlocked.

She raises her brows but keeps her attention on the screen. “My best friend might not be a sharer, but you won’t find anyone who knows Remi Sinner better.”

The name’s still odd, and I avert my gaze. My phone goes off, and I fish it out long enough to see Chase’s picture before hitting ignore. Again.

“Damn, bitch,” Sage whispers, bringing my attention back. She has the phone flat on the table. “What were you doing?”

I glance down at the text thread she’s scrolling through—with R. All emojis. Single ones and combinations. Sage pauses every now and then, deciphering them maybe. That’s what I’m doing upside down. A plane and pleading face a few weeks ago. Folded hands, a heart, the world from last month. A calendar and a shrug. Car, arrow, house.

But not a single one since the day before she disappeared on me.

The gut-wrenching one is what she sent him on Halloween. A heart and a fairy.

I swallow, regretting not going through the phone before coming here. Such a great fucking guy—upholding her privacy so I could be flayed open in public.

“You really think they were together?”

“I mean…” Sage’s eyes rise to mine, and she half-shrugs. “I thought they might have been before she left with him. And seeing these messages…”

I watch the phone, my leg bouncing under the table. “But does it feel right? She just vanishes without saying anything to you? I can’t believe she’d screw me over like that either. Planning shit with me and then running off with some guy⁠—”

“He’s not just some guy, Foster.” An apology floods her eyes, and I hate it. “Roman’s always been there. They’ve been close for a long time, even closer the last two years. Feelings evolve. I’m sorry you got caught up in it.” She huffs, folding her arms on the table in front of her. “As for her ditching me? I was never part of Remi’s escape plan. She just executed it sooner than I expected. I thought she’d at least tell me and give us a chance to stay friends, but I guess not.”

I shake my head, teeth grinding, and then I scrub a hand over my face before dragging it through my hair. “She wouldn’t do that to me,” I finally get out.

The teary look I’m met with hits so deep in my chest I sit back. It isn’t apologetic anymore but filled with pity, like I’m so wrong it should pain me.