Chapter Twenty Four

“Please, Uncle Zachary, drive faster.”

The words tumble out of me—again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said it already. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts, like it’s trying to claw its way out of my chest. The car speeds forward, trees and lanes blurring into streaks of green and grey, but no matter how fast we go, the dread won’t lift.

We’re close. I know we are.

Yet the feeling only grows heavier.

Uncle Zachary keeps glancing at me through the rearview mirror, his mouth opening like he wants to say something—anything—but he doesn’t. Maybe he knows that even the smallest attempt at comfort would shatter me right now.

This is my fault.

Isn’t it?

Since the concert last night, Alice hasn’t seen Dominic. His phone is switched off. He never came home. He hasn’t answered her calls. He hasn’t reached out to anyone.

Where did he go after the concert?

He was with Sasha the whole time. Maybe he’s still with her. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe he’s ignoring Alice—and everyone else—because he’s hurt. Because of me. Because he needed to breathe, to vent, to disappear for a while.

I squeeze my hands together, my nails digging into my palms. I’m done with the questions. Done with the fear spiraling out of control.

If this ends well—if I see him and he’s okay—I won’t hesitate.

I’ll hold him.

I’ll kiss him.

And I won’t run again.

When the car finally pulls up in front of Alice’s house, I’m already reaching for the door. I jump out and sprint up the porch steps, my heart slamming so hard it hurts. He has to be back by now. He has to.

I ring the bell, once, twice—too fast. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until the door clicks open.

“Alice.”

She barely gets my name out before she’s in my arms. Her body is shaking, tears soaking into my shoulder. I freeze for half a second, then force myself to hold her steady.

“We can’t find him, Catherine,” she sobs. “The police are coming.”

My chest caves in.

“Alice—no. What do you mean?” I pull her back just enough to look at her face. “What happened? Did he say anything? Did he call?”

She shakes her head over and over, like the answer might change if she keeps doing it.

“I don’t know,” she cries. “Dominic wouldn’t just disappear like this. He wouldn’t. We don’t have relatives he could be staying with, nowhere he’d run to without telling me.” Her voice breaks. “I even called Grandpa, and he asked where Dominic was and I—” she chokes, “—I couldn’t tell him I don’t know where my own brother is.”

The words sink in slowly, painfully.

Dominic is gone.

We sit and wait.

The police take statements, ask the same questions in different ways, scribble notes that don’t seem to mean anything. Hours slip by unnoticed until the sky begins to lighten again. Daybreak comes—and Dominic still hasn’t.

He’s nowhere.

Sasha and I are the last people known to have seen him.

“Catherine,” Alice says softly. “Stop crying. I can feel it.” She pulls me closer. “He’s okay. I know he is.”

That’s when I realize my face is wet. I wipe my cheeks quickly, embarrassed by how weak I feel.

“I know he’s okay,” I say, nodding like I believe it. But when I look at Alice slumped beside me on the couch, eyes red and hollow, the lie sits heavy in my chest. “What could have happened to him? He has to be somewhere safe. Maybe his phone died. Maybe—maybe he’ll just walk in.”

I nod again, forcing the words out. “Yeah. He’ll be back.”

But hope starts to feel thin.

Morning turns into afternoon. None of us have slept. Mom and Dad keep calling, telling me not to worry, telling me Dominic will be fine—but the math doesn’t work anymore.

It’s been too long.

The police have nothing.

Sasha says Dominic left before the concert even ended. They’re trying to track down the cab he took.

I slip into the bathroom and shut the door, pressing my hands to my face. “Dominic… where are you?” I whisper, like maybe if I say it softly enough, the answer will appear in the mirror.

I wish I could magically make my mind stop blaming me for everything. If I hadn’t left him there… maybe we’d still be together, maybe he’d be safe.

The lock clicks, and I stumble back, wiping my tear-streaked face, just as Alice’s head pops through the doorway. Even though this isn’t about her, I feel like I’ve failed her too—as a friend.

“The station called. They have updates. We should…” she starts.

“Let’s go,” I cut her off, my voice shaky but firm, desperate for some good news, desperate to know he’s okay.

We rush into the car, my hands trembling as I grip the seatbelt. Alice’s hand brushes mine once, lightly, but it feels like a lifeline. The roads blur past as I imagine every possible scenario—Dominic hurt, lost, angry at me… Every heartbeat feels like it’s dragging me further into panic.

“I—I can’t believe this,” I whisper, more to myself than to Alice. “If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t left him…” The words catch in my throat. My chest tightens, my stomach twists, and I force down the bile that rises. I can’t stop blaming myself.

Alice reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Cat… he’s okay. He has to be.” Her voice is firm, but I hear the tremor beneath it. Even though she's scared.

I nod, trying to believe her, but the guilt weighs heavy on me. Every choice I made yesterday—every small selfish thought, every hesitation—feels like it pushed him further into danger. I had been so wrapped up in my own fear and chaos, I didn’t even think about the consequences for him.

The police station looms ahead, and my stomach drops. What if they don’t have him? What if I was too late? My fingers clutch Alice’s hand tighter, knuckles white.

“Catherine…” she murmurs, and I barely hear her. I just want—need—to know he’s alive. That’s all I want.

We signed in, and after minutes of pleading, the police finally agreed to talk to us, reminding us we were minors.

He led us into his office. My eyes wandered around. Dominic isn’t here. And the way the officer keeps glancing at us… something isn’t right.

I swallowed hard. No need to panic. I whispered to Alice, “Take a seat.” She looks like she might collapse.

“Officer,” I said, my voice tight, “where is her brother?”

We wait. Every second stretches. Uncle Zachary’s hand on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me steady.

“Officer Caleb, bring those items,” the officer says.

My heart jumps. “What items?” I snap. “We’re not looking for any items. We’re looking for a boy!” I try to pull away from Uncle Zachary. The air feels thick. I can’t breathe.

Then heavy steps pound across the floor. The officer drops a transparent bag onto the desk.

“We found these a few miles from the concert,” he says. “Look at them. Do they look familiar?”

I freeze. My stomach twists. Every nerve is screaming.