wasn’t Rachel.
Even during our worst arguments, she always called instead of disappearing.
I drove straight to her apartment.
Her car was parked outside.
The lights were on.
But no one answered the door.
I knocked until my knuckles hurt, called her name through the door, and tried her phone again.
Nothing.
A neighbor stepped into the hallway.
“Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
I waited in my car outside her building for nearly an hour, watching her windows for any sign of movement.
Nothing happened.
The
