It was nearing noon, and he’d interviewed three of Nico’s friends, including the ex, and not one of them claimed to know where he could have gone – or even why he would have left. They all showed the appropriate amount of concern for Nico, not one of them triggering his bullshit detector.

Two of them had been Nico’s study partners, pursuing the same degree in computer science. They’d been adamant that Nico was doing well at school. He wasn’t falling behind on his work, like someone overwhelmed by college might have been. It all but killed the working theory that Nico might have taken off because of the pressure of upcoming finals.

It was concerning to them – and to Micah – that he had missed classes yesterday, and now today. Adding to the frustration (and worry) was the fact that there had been no new updates from Nico’s social media – which Micah was carefully monitoring. Not once in the past year had Nico gone more than a handful of days without updating his Instagram – until now.

It didn’t paint a pretty picture.

Micah had arrived at Queen College’s campus a few minutes ago, and he was on his way up to Nico’s third floor dormitory to search his room and interview his roommate. He could only hope that something he found – or something Nico’s roommate, a freshman by the name of Mateo Flores, said – would shed some light on the situation.

The door he wound up in front of was free of debris, unlike some of the others he’d passed to get there, which were covered in posters, whiteboards, and other miscellaneous decorations.

He raised his hand.

Knock. Knock.

“Mr. Flores – Mateo – it’s Detective Hart. We spoke on the-”

Micah didn’t even have to finish his sentence before the door was ripped open. Obviously, he’d been expected.

“Hi,” Mateo immediately greeted before doing a double take. “Wow, you’re younger than I thought you’d be.” He blanched. “Not that that’s a bad thing!” he rushed to clarify, nervously wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sure you’re good at your job.”

“Uh… thank you?” It was a rare occurrence that Micah met someone more awkward than himself.

Mateo was tall and lanky with close-cropped hair and a pair of hipster glasses perched on his nose that were almost cartoonish.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mateo added, thrusting a hand out. “Well, not nice – you know, considering the circumstances. But I’m sure you’re a nice person.”

“Um, thanks again?” Micah said, accepting the handshake. “I’m here to search Nico’s room.”

“Oh, right!” Mateo hurriedly stepped aside. “Come in. This is Nico’s side,” he said, gesturing towards the bed with the maroon-colored bedspread and a cluttered desk.