But Dana pushes. Asks him to go look upstairs. It’s unlike Kit not to respond. Her dad sounds like he’s trying to convince himself everything’s fine. He sounds tired. Sounds scared. In fact, the fear is growing, audible to Dana. He calls out to his wife, Evelyn. She yells back that Kit is sleeping upstairs.

But Dana knows she’s not. She just knows.

“Mr. Lamb,” she says. “She’s not there.”

He sounds angry when he responds. Nearly yells at her over the phone. Dana understands she’s pulled him from some mental stupor. Jesus. Kit’s parents are as scared as the ballers are.

“Mr. Lamb…”

Movement. Voices. Sounds like he’s walking upstairs. He’s breathing hard. Dana paces. Listens. Hears it when Kit’s mom gets close. The two of them together now. They sound so tired. A third voice. An officer? Yes. He’s talking like one. Says she’s still asleep. Says he checked.

“No,” Dana says.

But the Lambs aren’t responding to her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Dana says.

Because she is. And because she knows. She knows her friend. If Dana herself is pacing her bedroom, Kit must be pacing the entire city.

She hasn’t been asleep like they thought she was. Not a fucking chance.

Then, revelation on the other end. It arrives in a hysterical scream:

“How could you let this happen?”

And an argument. Rage.

“How could I? You told me you knew!”

“HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU?”

Dana hears every second of it. Hears fresh voices trying to calm Kit’s parents down. Hears them saying please, we need to be smart, there’s no sign of a struggle, no blood.

Only, also, no daughter.

The cacophony that follows, the chaos, the palpable fear, a terrible scene painted in sound.

Dana hangs up.

It’s exactly what she was worried about.

What she knew was true.

Kit is, right now, missing.

Dana leaves her bedroom, sees an officer in the hall.

“You need something?” he asks.

“Worried about a friend.”

He doesn’t take this lightly. He gets on his CB.

“Kit is missing,” Dana says. “They can’t find her in her house. She was surrounded by police too.”

The cop relays this info.

“Send more,” he says. “Call Goblin. Do whatever you have to do.”

The lack of confidence, lack of a plan, chills her. She moves to pass him in the hall.

“I think maybe you should stay up here.”

“There are other officers below.”

“Just stay in your room.”

“Kit was just staying in her room.”

The officer lets this sink in. For as mad as what the teenager is telling him, it’s also true.

Still, he’s not letting her go.

“I’m sorry, Dana,” he says. “As bad as things are, they’re better if you stay in your room.”

Dana. Like he knows her. Like he’s a family friend, rather than an officer assigned to protect her from a killer.

“Fine,” she says.

Because she has an idea. And no man in any uniform is going to stop her.