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Something is wrong.

Alex is missing

I know this because, at nine last night, he called me, and the line connected for a moment—enough to hear him breathe—before it went dead.

Since then—nothing.

No calls, no messages.

Doubt creeps in for a minute. Has he played me? Have I fallen for his lies again, even after everything? He promised not to do anything that would mess up the fragile trust between us, but what if he did?

I shove the thought away as quickly as it comes. Alex hasn’t lied to me, not since this started. He wouldn’t just disappear. Something else is wrong. I can feel it.

The midday sun hangs high, cold and distant. I stand outside Alex’s apartment building, scanning his unit. His living room window is cracked open—not his bedroom, though. That’s probably my fault. His car is in its usual spot, frost coating the windshield. Everything looks ordinary.

An older woman exits the lobby, and I hold the door for her as she murmurs a quiet thank you. I slip inside and head up the stairs.

When I reach Alex’s front door, I freeze. It’s slightly open, a sliver of light pouring out. Alarm bells go off in my head. Slowly, I push it open. It creaks on its hinges, revealing the stillnessof his kitchen. The scent of vanilla hangs heavy in the air, the source an almost-burnt-out candle on the coffee table.

“Alex?” My voice cuts through the silence, but it’s clear he’s not here. He hasn’t been here for hours.

I step further inside the apartment and spot his cell phone on the floor—completely smashed. Not dropped but stomped. Tiny shards scatter across the floor, glinting in the afternoon light, a few crunching under my shoes. A few inches away, a broken glass lies in jagged pieces, water pooling around it. The kitchen table sits askew, his laptop open but the screen blank.

My stomach tightens looking over the living room. There was a struggle. He fought back, but the other person won because he’s not here. They took him.

A strange mix of anger and panic settles inside me, making it almost impossible to breathe. I fight through it, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out. Without a second thought, I pull out my phone and dial Xander.

He picks up immediately. “Ro?”

“Alex is missing,” I say, the words cutting like glass.

“Am I supposed to be surprised?”

I grit my teeth. “No. Someone took him, Xan.”

He’s quiet for a second. “How do you know?”

“His apartment door was open. His phone is smashed, there’s broken glass on the floor, and he’s not here. This wasn’t him leaving on his own.”

Another pause. “He could have set that up.”

I take in another breath, forcing myself to thwart the panic. Panic won’t do me any good right now. “He wouldn’t do this. Not like this. I know he wouldn’t.”

He falls quiet again and it’s driving me insane.

“Okay. Okay,” he finally says. “What do you need?”

“Get someone to pull the security footage from this building. If anyone resists, tell your guy to make them comply. I don’t care how.”

“And you?”

“I’ll call you when I know more,” I say, then hang up.

I look down at Alex’s shattered phone, picking it up carefully. The fine shards dig into my palm, but I barely notice. My mind races, picturing him tied up somewhere, bloody and bruised. I’ve never been religious, but God help whoever took him because when I get to them, it won’t be God they beg for mercy, it’ll be me.

Halle doesn’t live far from Alex’s place, and I find myself heading there before I’ve even decided what to say. Maybe he’s with her. Maybe he slept over and somehow dropped his phone. But the broken glass keeps replaying in my mind, telling me I’m grasping at straws, trying to make myself feel better.

Her door swings open before I even knock. Wide-eyed and curly-haired, Halle blinks up at me.