The elevator doors slide open and I step out into the office. Everything is exactly as it was yesterday when I left: Judy smiles up from her desk as I move past her, printers hum, Claudia talks loudly on speakerphone, Stan is in with Hyacinth with the door closed, Wesley sits grimacing at his screen, Nathalie is in the kitchen and the rest of the office is quietly going about its business.

Nobody pays any attention to me as I move over to my desk, drop my bag on the floor and slowly, calmly, power on my computer.

‘Morning,’ Wesley snipes from his side of the desk.

‘Morning.’ I reply. Deadpan. I stare at my screen, waiting… waiting… waiting.

A flash of white and my computer is on. I pull up the browser and type in Le Parisien.

As I see her face yet again, I let out a deep, controlled exhale.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine,’ I say without even looking up.

I need to know what else the article says. I need to know everything. And so I highlight the text, and copy and paste it into Reverso then press ‘translate’. After a few moments the text appears in English. And, as I scan through the words, my vision blurs.

Woman’s Disappearance Goes Viral

Sabine Roux, 22, was last heard from on her way to a party in Montmartre on Friday, 15 October. Miss Roux was a student at Parsons Paris and a small group of classmates began posting notices about her on social media on Monday morning after she didn’t arrive at various sessions throughout the weekend, and failed to respond to phone calls. ‘Her phone has been off since Friday and Sabine just isn’t like that. She always answers her phone. And all she cares about is her work. She wouldn’t just not turn up,’ said the student who contacted Le Parisien. ‘The police won’t listen to us but something is very wrong. We had to do something.’ Within 12 hours there were more than 3000 posts on various platforms asking if anyone had seen her. The police have not issued a comment but an informed source told Le Parisien that Sabine Roux has now been formally reported as missing.

I pull up Instagram immediately, go to her page and click on ‘tagged photographs’. Up come pages of pictures of Sabine – smiling, winking, blowing on a fake hand gun – all with loving messages beneath them. All with the hashtag #sauverSabineRoux.

A wave of nausea rolls through me.

She was last heard from on Friday night.

That was Noah’s party.

I was there.

A flash of Sabine’s phone lens glinting on the rooftop, just before she ran down those stairs. I look up from my computer screen and across to the white door of the bathroom.

Stan storms out of Hyacinth’s office, slamming the door, and my mouth turns sour.

I’m going to be sick.