Well, it didn’t work. It seemed like she was hurrying to get the job done so she could run back to her bed.

Today is Wednesday, and I still haven’t heard anything from her, and neither has Olivia. At first, I thought she needed some time alone, but she hasn’t replied to any of our messages. That’s what’s prompted us to drive to her house and check if she still has a pulse.

Olivia gets out of the car first and I follow her, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. From the time I’ve spent with Indigo, I know she disappears occasionally, but she’s always replied to Olivia’s calls, if not mine. And I’d be less worried if Indigo hadn’t been acting weirdly beforehand.

Olivia looks back at me when we get to the front porch and I nod, encouraging her to knock. She does and a second later we hear something crash to the floor, followed by Indigo’s curses.

“Damn it,” she says. “I’m coming!”

Our shoulders drop in relief and we smile at each other. The stream of curses continues until Indigo opens the door. She has a big bun on top of her head, large dark circles under her eyes, a white, over-sized t-shirt that falls to her thighs, and a long pair of socks.

“Oh.” Her eyes lock with mine and then Olivia’s. “What happened? Actually, what day is it?” She frowns, looking at the sky like it would give her an answer.

“Wednesday,” I growl. She seems spaced out. The idea of her being on drugs makes my blood run cold.

“Can we come in?” Olivia doesn’t wait for her to reply, she just barges past.

Indigo follows her, looking lost in her own place. I step inside and stop in my tracks as soon as I see the mess. And not only that, a puppy is ripping up the couch pillows while another spreads her makeup on the white fluffy rug.

“What the…” I mumble, my voice fading away as I analyze everything that’s happening.

Indigo nods, exhaustion on her features. She drops on the sofa and pulls her scrunchie from her hair. Olivia gasps and I almost do too.

Her long hair is now much shorter, just touching her shoulders. I can’t stop staring at it.

She notices our gaze and shifts uncomfortably in her seat, threading her fingers through it.

“What?” she shrugs, looking everywhere but us.

I don’t even try to form a response, I only stare at how different she looks with it cut this short. Good different. It brings her eyes into focus and makes her high cheekbones even more contoured.