Page 23 of Malicious Marriage
Fully expecting nothing, a new notification on Hailey’s Instagram catches my attention. With my heart in my throat, Iclick on it, fully hoping that it’s from Hailey herself with a post telling everyone where she is. A stretch, but given how long she’s been missing, I’ll take anything at this point.
There’s no new post but there is a new message from an old high school friend eager to reconnect. My heart sinks as I type out the reply I’ve given to several friends over the years when they come asking about Hailey. She’s missing, and she’s been missing for four years.
Where I expect the usual flurry of sympathy and offers for any help if needed, Clara replies with something unexpected.
‘Four years? But I swear she called me a couple of months ago!’
Meeting with a strangerat four in the morning isn’t my smartest decision, but since Clara only messaged Hailey because she was out drinking and randomly thought of her, it’s my only chance to talk to her. She claims to be flying back to L.A in the morning and I can’t afford to follow her, so racing across the city to the Renegade Nightclub is all I can do.
Inside, surrounded by thumping music, sweaty dancers, and the overwhelming scents of alcohol and too much perfume, it takes me ten minutes to find Clara at a table surrounded by her friends.
“Clara?” I yell over the music. “Clara Campbell?”
Clara’s head whips around and her dark-lined eyes land on me, then narrow as she tries to work out who I am. “Who’s askin’?”
“It’s me, Clover? Hailey’s sister. You—” I pull out my phone and wiggle it. “We were texting? You said you heard from her?”
“Oh, Hailey!” Clara throws her hands up in the air and stands, but her hips knock into one of the glasses her friend is holding and they all erupt into laughter as the drink spills. “Amy, no! Your dress!”
“My dress!” Amy whines. “What the fuck, Clara? Your huge ass is ruining everything!”
“I’m sorry.” Clara cackles. “Let me get you another one!” Wobbling on six-inch heels, she weaves past her friend and stumbles into me, then continues on toward the bar, so I follow.
“Clara, I’m sorry, but I really need to talk to you about Hailey.”
“Oh, Hailey! I wish she was here. I haven’t seen her in so long!” Clara slumps against the bar and slams one hand down to get the bartender’s attention. “Are you here to drink?”
“No, no I’m…” Frustration builds quickly, amped by the thundering music and Clara’s clear drunk disinterest. “Clara, please!” Grabbing her arm, I force her around to look at me. Her eyes widen and for a moment I think she’s going to yell at me or worse. Instead, she pats my hand and sighs.
“What’s wrong, chick?”
“Hailey. My sister. You said in your message that you spoke to her?”
“Oh…” Her lips press together and she brushes some sweaty strands of hair out of her face. “Mmhmm, I did. I did. She called me a few months ago, actually.”
My heart seizes in my chest “What? When? Why? How did she sound?” My grip tightens on Clara’s arm until she wrenches her arm away.
“What the fuck, crazy much? Jesus. I don’t know. She just called me.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Uhm…” Her mouth twists to the side. “I think… Oh! I remember. She wanted the name of a professor we shared in college. She’d forgotten his name.”
That… makes no sense. “What do you mean she wanted his name?”
“Exactly that! She called and she asked me for his name. Mr. Prize it was, and I remember because his name was always pronounced like Price but he spelt it with a Z. Weird, right?”
“I…” I can’t wrap my head around what I’m hearing. My sister, my missing sister, called Clara to ask for the name of a professor. “Was that it?”
Several filled glasses are placed on the bar, and Clara scoops them up and then stumbles into me. “Hmm? Oh, yep. That was it!”
“Well, do you have her number?”
“Aren’t you her sister?”
“Didn’t you hear me when I said she was missing?”
“Oh, right!” Clara laughs. “The number’s disconnected. Why do you think I messaged her Instagram? I tried to call her back on that number, but all I got was the boring robot voice telling me it wasn’t connected anymore. Pretty shitty, right? She’s supposed to be my friend!”