I open my eyes and force myself to calm the fuck down. He has reasons he might go silent, all likely to protect me, which means I’ll be kicking his ass tonight. And enjoying it. I try to think of anything he’s said to me that might remind me of something I’m forgetting. But nothing comes to me.

Finally, the train comes. When the doors open, I step inside, and thank God, it’s nearly empty. I still haven’t eaten my nuts and with only sugar in my system, I’m feeling unsteady. The subway is a nasty place to eat, but I have no option. I shove down the nuts and nearly choke with nothing to drink. My coffee is still sitting on the table where I accidentally left it. A homeless lady in a trash bag walks toward me, screaming, “They’re coming to get us! The aliens are coming to get us!”

“Yes,” I say. “They are. You should sit down and hope they don’t notice you.”

“They’re coming to get us!” she screams.

I’m going to pull my fucking gun on her in about thirty seconds, and that thought is how I know just how not right I am over this Kane stuff. As if that’s a real revelation. The woman throws her hands up and turns and runs the other direction. The train halts and I get the fuck off.

It’s a full fifteen minutes later when I reach street level a few blocks from Kane’s office building. I check my messages and there are none. I dial Andrew. He doesn’t answer. I’m going to kick his ass. I really am. I’m about to dial Tic Tac when Andrew calls.

“Okay,” he says, and I already know it’s bad. I stop walking and step to the wall outside the rush of pedestrians that is the sidewalk in New York City. “He’s not pinging, Lilah. That has to be intentional. And that’s good news. If he had the forethought to destroy his phone.”

“Or maybe someone else did,” I say, and my throat is tight, my words thick. My heart beats too quickly.

“I’m headed to the airport now.”

“So am I, right after I check in with his office.” I hang up and finish my walk, hurrying into the Mendez Enterprises office tower and then into the elevator. In a flash, I’m in the fancy lobby, approaching the reception desk where sweet, pretty little Cindy is managing the phones. “Is he here?” I ask Cindy as she hangs up from a call.

“Still not here,” she says. “I tried to reach him. He’s got people looking for him. He missed a meeting. Is he okay?”

“Of course,” I say. “He’s Kane.” I motion to his office to let her know that’s where I’m headed.