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I needed to keep myself busy while in my apartment. Daddy was right. I had ideas churning in my brain, but I wanted to leave Eve’s disappearance to the professionals. Kennedy was looking into it and there was only so much I could do as an average citizen.

I sat at the dining table and opened my laptop. As soon as the home screen lit up, I returned to my document on Robert Cowan and proceeded to work on the article. I had one more day, and Herbert was going to grill me if I didn’t get it in. He hated missing deadlines.

I typed about three more paragraphs with ease before my mind reverted to Eve again.

Something was bugging me about all of this.

Something just wasn’t adding up with the Reeds.

I glanced at her purse on the sofa before standing and walking toward it.

I dug through it again for her wallet, reading the name on the credit card again.

Victor E. McDonnell.

I tried thinking of all the times Eve spoke about the men she dated. I couldn’t remember a time when she talked about anyone named Victor. She must’ve met him recently, while we weren’t talking. That, or she didn’t take him very seriously and was just using him.

I returned to the table and checked my phone as if a text or call from Nico would be there. Nothing. “Just let it go, Rose,” I muttered, going to the kitchen to make tea.

When I sat down again, I glanced at Eve’s purse one more time. An object in my house that didn’t belong, full of personal things my former best friend was meant to be carrying. Objects she’d touched. Things she needed to navigate this world.

In the back of my mind, I could hear her voice. The same one from my nightmare. Whispering. Demanding . Telling me to do something and not just sit on my ass. To get up and figure out what the hell happened to her.

I’m missing, Rose, I could hear her saying. I need your help. Please. I know you hate me right now, but I need you.

I polished off my tea, went for my shoes and hoodie, and left once again.

Eve’s house looked exactly the same as the last time I’d visited.

I couldn’t even tell Zoey had been around.

The kitchen was still clean. The table scarce with material.

It even smelled like a hint of bleach. Her bed was made with the same comforter, no clothes missing from her closet.

There were no signs that she’d been here to grab a few things and dip off again.

The only difference in the bedroom was that her laptop was open.

I gave the spacebar a tap and sat in the chair at her desk. After entering her password, I sifted through her emails. There wasn’t much there except that confirmation flight to Thailand Zoey had mentioned, contacts from companies, and emails from her fans.

Any new videos this week? someone asked in an email.

Eve, I miss you! Please get back on IG!

Just want to let you know that no matter what anyone says, your videos are amazing.

I left the emails and clicked on her files. Nothing much there. I went to her photos next. Most of them were images she’d posted before. A few videos were mixed in between. I clicked play on one of them.

She was walking with her phone held up in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. She sipped from the coffee, walking and holding the phone up as if this were a natural way of life.

I clicked the arrow to get to the next video.

In this one, she was standing in a dressing room and holding a purple dress in the air by the hanger. “Date night,” she said. “What do you guys think? Should I buy this?”

It was a brief video. No longer than seven seconds.

Date night? With whom?

I checked the date. It was recorded in June. I rolled to the next video. Eve was wearing the purple dress she’d just asked for opinions on. The neckline cut very low, revealing lots of cleavage. She was smiling as she sat on the hood of a car. Car horns beeped in the background, whizzing by.

“What?” she called, lowering the phone. “Oh, yeah! I’ll take a scoop, babe!” She looked at the camera again. “I’m having so much fun, guys. I never thought I’d fall in love. That sounds so stupid of me.” She giggled, and judging by her glassy eyes, I could tell she was drunk.

She hopped off the trunk of the car and puckered her lips as she looked into the camera.

Then it cut off. But something before the cutoff caught my eye.

I clicked the mouse and dragged the time back a few seconds.

The car she was sitting on was red. Metallic red, like Lincoln had said.

I hit pause on the video and zoomed in. The car’s emblem was just to the right of her hip.

“An Aston Martin,” I whispered.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out to answer it. “Nico? Got anything for me?” I asked as I clicked the mouse to see the next photo of a cup of vanilla ice cream.

“Not yet. Just calling ’cause I haven’t had a chance to look into this Victor person yet. My mom needed a lift to an appointment, then wanted to run errands, so I’ve been out all day. I should be back in about an hour or so. Just grabbing dinner with her now.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine.” It wasn’t really. Something told me this Victor guy was the same person driving the Aston Martin and I needed to know who he was, what he looked like, and when he last spoke to Eve.

“I’ll text you as soon as I have something.”

“Thanks, Nico.”

He hung up and I sifted through more videos. None of them showed the Aston Martin again. Neither did any of her photos. Giving up, I moved away from the laptop and searched through the nightstands. Pills. THC carts. Cough drops. Earrings. Sinus relief spray.

I shuffled through the closet but had no luck there. She kept her closet tidy and even color coded her clothes. I lowered to a squat to check her shoe boxes, hoping to find anything that might give me a clue as to where she might be or what she was doing.

Nothing.

With a huff, I made my way back to the laptop, slumping down in the chair and rubbing my forehead.

I was getting a headache from all this thinking and wondering.

I stared at the screen before sitting up again and clicking through the files.

I checked her apps next. There was a black app I hadn’t seen before with an icon of a box with three dots above it called ThoughtBox.

I gave it a click and it opened to the main page. The words WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND, EVE? were written across the top of the page. Below that were separated boxes, all with different dates. The latest was from September 2nd.

A sync button was at the top and I gave it a click. More boxes appeared in seconds.

September 3rd.

September 4th.

All dates when Eve was in Sage Hill.

My heart sped up a notch as I gave the most recent date a click and several paragraphs appeared.

“Holy shit,” I breathed as I scrolled through one entry after another.

I’d found Eve’s digital journal.

Eve Castillo journal entry

It feels like something bad is going to happen. I can’t shake it. I can’t tell if it’ll happen to me or someone else. I can’t sleep so I’m currently watching TV with a fire going in the lake house.

My stomach has been hurting all day. I think Alex and Damian were too rough.

I should rest but I can’t. Like I said, something bad feels like it’s going to happen.

Could it be guilt? Maybe I should go home.

Perhaps I need to reconsider everything and focus on my priorities.

So what if Victor doesn’t want me? I’ll be fine.

I never should’ve come here.