The Missing Best Friend

The name Fatcat Cook was something Lena Moore and I came up with back in our final year of college, after finishing an entire bottle of red wine and lying on the rooftop, tossing out random ideas.That night, the moon was full.Lena had her arm looped around my neck, her voice slurred as she said, “Zoe, let’s come up with a code.”“What kind of code?”“I mean if one of us disappears or goes silent, hearing this name means something’s gone wrong.”I laughed at how childish she sounded.But I still went along with it, thinking it through with her for a long time, and in the end, we settled on Fatcat Cook.Because the name sounded so ridiculous, no one would ever actually have it.In the entire world, only two people knew what the name Fatcat Cook meant.One was me.The other was Lena.And Lena had been missing for thirty-one days.She said she was going to Silverridge, in Valoria, for a few days.Before she left, she even video-called me, holding up her phone in the airport duty-free sto

Day one.Lena dragged her suitcase into the hotel lobby and checked in at the front desk.She wore a white dress, her hair tied back in a ponytail, chatting with the receptionist with an easy smile.My eyes suddenly stung.In the bottom right corner of the screen, near the lobby entrance, a man pushed the door open and walked in.He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt, baseball cap, and face mask.From his build and the way he moved, I knew it was Tristan.He didn’t go to the front desk. Instead, he sat in the lobby seating area, picking up a magazine and holding it in front of him.But his eyes stayed on Lena.From the moment she checked in, to when she took her key card, to when she stepped into the elevator.He watched the entire time.A chill crept down my spine.“Fast-forward,” I said.The security supervisor sped up the footage.That afternoon.Lena left the hotel to go out.The footage switched to the camera at the entrance. About two minutes after she walked out, Tristan followed.

“Yes.”“What evidence do you have?”“Her phone and wallet were found at the bottom of the cliff. She’s been missing for a month. Please, you need to come and see this.”They said they would send someone.But it would take time.I hung up and dialed another number—the search and rescue team.I had looked them up before coming. There was a local volunteer team in Silverridge that often worked with the police on mountain and jungle searches.They were faster than the police.They said they could be there by the afternoon.The waiting was the hardest part.I sat on a rock at the edge of the town, Lena’s wallet clutched in my hand, unable to move.I opened it and took out the photo.In it, we stood at the university gates in our graduation gowns, arms around each other, smiling.Lena was holding up a peace sign.We were twenty-two that year.Lena had been my roommate all four years of college.She slept at the top bunk while I occupied the bottom.She would lean over the edge every night to

On the flight back from Valoria, I kept circling the same question.Should I go straight to the police?I had the recording, hotel records, and photos of the surveillance footage.But when I forced myself to think it through, would any of it be enough to convict Tristan?The recording only proved that Lena had discovered his gambling, and that she felt she was being followed.The hotel records only showed they stayed at the same place.The footage only showed that Tristan had followed her inside the hotel.There was no direct evidence that he killed her.No witnesses and weapon.Her face was unrecognizable, and the cause of death was still under investigation.If I reported it now, all Tristan had to do was deny everything—say he went to Valoria on holiday and staying at the same hotel was a coincidence.What could the police really do?At most, hold him for a few days, then release him for lack of evidence.And by then, he would know that I knew everything.What would a man who could

Flora said, “The recording is your strongest piece of evidence, but it needs to line up with the investigation in Valoria. I have a contact in Interpol. I’ll reach out.”Three days later.Flora told me the autopsy report from Valoria was out.The cause of death wasn’t the fall.There were signs of blunt force trauma to the back of Lena’s head.She had been knocked unconscious first, then pushed off the cliff.It was murder.When I heard that, I was sitting in my car, pounding the steering wheel over and over.Lena, how much did it hurt? How scared were you?In those last few seconds, as you fell, did you think of me?Flora said the police had officially opened a case.But since it involved multiple jurisdictions, the process would take time.“Until then, you need to keep yourself safe. He can’t know you’re investigating him.”“I know.”“And don’t give him a chance to run.”“He won’t run.”I said, “He doesn’t know he’s been exposed. To him, I’m still the wife who knows nothing.”Flora n