“What’s wrong? Mr. Reid?” I chase after him, but he’s already upstairs. The floor creaks beneath his heavy steps. I take chase, running up the staircase. “Mr. Reid?”

I find him in my bedroom, where he stands, staring at the crumpled sheets on my bed.

“Where’s Chloe?”

I stiffen.

He turns around and looks at me pleadingly. “Please tell me she’s here.”

I don’t know what to say. “No, I left before her last night. She was catching a ride back with Amand—”

He strides past me, rushing down the stairs. I can barely keep up. “What’s wrong? What’s happened to Chloe?”

He doesn’t reply, and the panic inside me grows.

“Mr. Reid?!”

I chase him outside into the overcast, early morning. Pulling him to a stop, I step in front of him. “Where’s Chloe?”

The fight seems to leave him. Dressed in gray joggers and a white T-shirt, he looks exhausted. I’m suddenly aware of my tiny sleep shorts and tank top. The chill in the air makes my nipples harden against the thin fabric.

Mr. Reid is too worried to pay any attention to my state of undress. “She never returned home last night.”

“She probably stayed over at Dylan’s.”

They must have made up in the end. It’s what they do.

“She always messages me to tell me her plans.” He walks off toward his house.

I follow hot on his heels. “Maybe she forgot this time.”

He stops at the door and grips the handle, inhaling a steadying breath. His jaw tightens and a muscle ticks in his cheek. “Will you phone Dylan for me, please?”

“Of course. I’ll phone him now.”

I walk back to my house, feeling strangely numb. The fear in Mr. Reid’s eyes was real, and it’s infectious.

Hurrying up the steps to my room, I make a beeline for my phone on the nightstand.

Me: Message me when you get home so I know you’re safe.

The message was marked as seen, but she never replied.

My fingers tremble as I bring up Dylan’s number. It takes me a few attempts, but I finally succeed. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait with bated breath.

He answers on the third ring, his voice croaky. “Hello?”

“Dylan?”

“Who’s this?” He’s in his bed. I can hear him shifting beneath his sheets.

“It’s Willow. Is Chloe with you?”

His deep voice breathes out, “No. She walked home alone last night.”

I grow cold. “What? Why didn’t she catch a lift with someone?”

“You know how stubborn she is sometimes.”

“What about Amanda? Jenny?”

His sleepy voice sounds in my ear. “Look, I don’t know. She was angry with me and decided to walk home.”

“And you let her?!” I almost shriek. “Why, Dylan? Why would you let her walk home alone?”

“We were both fucking angry, okay? What was I supposed to do? Manhandle her?”

My eyes catch on Mr. Reid’s bedroom window across from mine. He’s pacing the small space.

“Willow?” Dylan’s voice brings me back to the here and now.