Chapter 19 · The Night She Never Told You

I drove back to the rental with the tape in my pocket like a live grenade.

Kira's truck was gone. The driveway sat empty under the porch light, tire tracks still fresh in the gravel. I cut the engine and sat there, hands tight on the wheel, staring at the dark windows.

She knew I went to Marco. She knew what he'd tell me.

And she ran.

I slammed the car door hard enough to rattle the frame and stomped up the steps. The front door was unlocked. Inside, the air smelled like burnt coffee and something metallic I couldn't place. Her duffel bag was gone from the corner by the couch. The spare blanket she'd been using was folded neatly on the armrest, like she'd had all the time in the world to tidy up before disappearing.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I almost didn't answer. Then I thought: What if it's Mom again?

I swiped. "Hello?"

"Layla." Kira's voice. Flat. Tired. "Don't go looking for me."

"Where are you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Bullshit." I was already grabbing my keys again. "You don't get to just leave after—"

"After what?