It didn’t sound like her.
Rachel didn’t disappear.
She confronted people.
She argued.
She called.
Something was wrong.
I drove to her apartment.
Her car was outside.
The lights were on.
But she wouldn’t answer the door.
I called her again.
Straight to voicemail.
I waited outside for almost an hour.
Then, finally, my phone rang.
Rachel.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I can’t talk here.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Rachel, you’re scaring me.”
“I know.”
She hung up.
I didn’t sleep that night.
The next morning, she met me outside her workplace.
She looked exhausted.
Then she handed me her phone.
There were several messages from an unknown number.
The first said:
“Stay away from him.”
