one
JADE
My forearms pressedagainst the cold countertop as I leaned over the stone, staring the receptionist down.
The hospital’s lobby made an attempt to look comfortable, but it still smelled like a hospital. That removed any sense of peace a person might have inside the building. Or at least any sense of peaceImight’ve had. Hospitals and I didn’t exactly have a good track record.
The receptionist was a severe-looking woman around my age—30. I’d had enough experience with her to be confident she was just as bitchy as she looked. Which was definitely judgmental of me, but I was past caring.
Monthspast caring, actually. Just as long as one of my best friends had supposedly been in the hospital for.
Supposedly, because no one had let me see her so I could verify that she was actually there and alive. I hadn’t heard from her since she disappeared. No one had.
I let out a harsh breath, fighting to keep my temper in check.
Losing my shit had yet to get me anywhere in Moon Ridge.
“Look, Cynthia,” I said flatly.
I’d been shooting for polite, but that clearly didn’t work out.
Oh well.
“We’re both tired of playing this game. You know you have information about my friend. I know you have information about my friend. Obviously, there’s some weird shit going on in this town. I don’t care what it is. Just tell me where Stella is, and I’ll get out of your hair for good.”
Cynthia finally looked up from her computer, her expression irritated. “As I’ve told you before, Miss Hoover, patient information is private. Without your friend’s permission, I can neither confirm nor deny her presence or anything else.”
Frustration had me clenching my jaw as I forced a smile onto my face.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
I was about to become her worst nightmare.
“I completely understand. However, considering the circumstances, I’m sure you won’t be surprised or annoyed when I spend my entire weekend in your waiting room, checking back for an update every thirty minutes.”
Cynthia’s lips pressed together.
“While I wait, I’ll be emailing and calling every person in your town’s council, as well. Surely,someonein Moon Ridge will be willing and able to find my friend. Thanks for your help.”
I strode over to the waiting room and took the seat directly across from Cynthia’s. My gaze met hers, and I hoped she could see the steel in it.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
I’d spent the last few days making a list of every email address and phone number for every public figure in Moon Ridge. There weren’t a ton, but if I bugged enough of them, someone would have to make something happen.
Theoretically.
I pulled my laptop out of my backpack—it was black leather, in an attempt to look more professional than I felt—and opened it up on my lap.
Pulling up the list, I called the first number.
Then the second.
And the third.
Cynthia’s lips pressed tighter together with every phone call I made.
No one I talked to sounded excited to help me, unsurprisingly. When I promised to follow up with an email, and immediately did so, they were even less thrilled.
