I waited for my car on West End Avenue. The rain had stopped, but I could feel the harsh, bitter air cutting through my down jacket. All the blood in my body was rushing to my head. I was confronted with the possibility of losing Amelia. My love for her was as intense as any romantic love I had ever experienced. I needed her. I wanted to disappear inside her.

Fritz answered the door, his sandy-blond hair disheveled, his face unshaven, a glazed look in his eyes. “Natalie’s in her room doing homework. I haven’t told her anything yet.”

I dropped my equipment in the vestibule, hung my coat, and followed him into the library.

“Why don’t we sit down?” I motioned to the sofa. He rubbed his palms together, like his hands were cold. I was genuinely concerned for him. It occurred to me that I needed to behave in a calm and confident manner. It wasn’t the role I wanted to play, but I really had no choice, because anything other than that would send Fritz into a state of greater panic and crisis.

“Let’s just talk through everything,” I said. “Do you know if Amelia took a car service to the airport this morning?”

“I wasn’t awake.” He held his hands to his mouth and blew hot air on them.

“Do you know if she boarded her flight?”

“Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, covering his eyes with his hands.

“If she checked into her hotel?”

He opened his eyes, but didn’t appear to process what I was saying.

“Do you know the airlines, what flight number?”

I remembered a conversation I’d had with Amelia. She’d described Fritz as fragile and said that he expected her to be the strong one. Now I saw how he broke down in a crisis.

He leaned his elbows onto his knees with his head resting in his hands. “I should have gone. Fuck. Fuck.”

“In a little while, she’ll call us, and we’ll know that everything’s fine,” I said. “Maybe she sprained her ankle. Maybe she lost her cell phone.” Blood was pumping in my head, like there was too much blood and not enough space. I hid my fear, not wanting to add to Fritz’s worry.

He looked up at me. “Do you think I should file a missing person’s report?’

“Not yet,” I said, though I didn’t actually know the answer. I took one of Fritz’s large callused hands and held it in mine. The feeling of his hand in mine calmed my nerves slightly. “I understand how you feel.”