Wyatt’s POVI checked my phone again, nothing I had checked for the seventh time in ten minutes, no reply, no missed call and no check-in.Jessica was supposed to report to me by six, at most seven PM and now it was past nine, two plus hours of silence.Marcus sat rigid in the passenger seat beside, he clenched his jaw tight. He dialed again, the phone rang once, then it went straight to voicemail.“Phone’s off or dead.” He said, his eyes fixed on the road.“She wouldn’t turn it off, not when she hasn’t reported back to us.” My hands tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. We were already on the highway going to Ridgefield.Something was wrong.Jessica never missed check-ins. Never. In weeks of watching Avery, she’d been perfect, reliable and consistent.Marcus tried her phone again, it went straight to voicemail, again.“What was her last message?” I demanded.Marcus scrolled through texts with his thumb. “Five-fifteen PM, she said Avery left Nina’s apartment.
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