All their stuff is gone, too. Clothing, toys, suitcases. The room is empty. My coat and purse had been sitting on the far corner of the tall dresser, where the kids couldn't quite reach. They're gone as well.
I go around to knock on my parents’ door. No answer.
A member of the housekeeping staff comes around the corner with her trolley. "That room is empty, miss. I cleaned it an hour ago."
She must see from the look on my face that I'm starting to panic. "Is there anything you need?” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Checkout is supposed to be in twenty minutes, but I could take my time getting to your room, if you want.”
"It’s okay. But thank you."
I return to my room and pack quickly with fluttering hands.
My family left without me.
Plus, my mother took my purse and coat. She's done that before. We both have black bags and she assumes that any purse sitting around is hers, even though I tied a bright plum scarf around the handle of mine so it wouldn't keep happening.
I double-check that I haven't forgotten anything before going down to the hotel lobby. Theo, the manager, is at the concierge desk, and after thanking him for his help yesterday, I explain what's going on.
"I'm so sorry, Bailey. Your family left early this morning." He checks his computer. "Almost…three hours ago. I figured you went straight to the car or something."
"It was definitely my parentsandthe boys?"
“Yes.”
Jeremy always drives as fast as possible for a couple of hours before he stops for food on a road trip. Says he has to “deserve the break”. So they’re long gone.
"You still have their credit card on file, right? Could I possibly keep my room for two more nights until I figure out how to get home?"
Theo’s face falls. "I'm so sorry – we’re completely booked for the next few days with a wedding party. I could call around to hotels nearby, but I can almost guarantee they're in the same situation."
I'm stranded. Mom said we’d be staying here for a few more days, so I could study in my room and take my test there. I guess she forgot about me as soon as I was out of sight.
"You can stay in the lobby for a bit. Charge your phone, help yourself to the continental breakfast.” He smiles kindly. “If you’re still hungry, I’d be happy to buy you lunch.”
"I'll be fine. Thank you."
Even as I say that, the room starts to spin. My head feels floaty. I begin to turn to the right, and the floor tilts beneath me.
A thick arm wraps firmly around my waist. "I've got you, Bailey. Come with me."
Nate's voice washes over me like a refreshing breeze. He grabs my bags and drags them with us over to a nearby sofa. He sits me down, clasping my hands. “Breathe. I won't let anything happen to you. Just breathe."
It's such a comfort to have a competent adult around. Someone I can trust. Maybe it's strange that I already think that way about him after knowing him for less than a day. But I’m usually pretty good at listening to my gut, and it's telling me that Nate is safe.
"That's it." As I breathe, his hands drag along my fingers, then reach up to tug along my wrists and all the way down my hands. "Relax. Everything's going to be fine."
I've heard that phrase so many times, and then terrible things happen. This is the first time I believe it. After a few more deep breaths, and his strange hand massage, I nod. "Thank you. I think I'm okay now."
He holds my hands gently as I look up to meet his smile. "Did that hand thing help? I watched a video about reflexology a few months ago."
"You know, it did. Thank you." I can't help wondering if it was more an excuse to touch me. I wish I had the guts to tell him he should feel free to touch me as much as he wants.
"I was coming by to check on you and ask if I could take you to breakfast. But first, whatever is wrong, I want to help."
I take another deep breath. "My family left this morning without me. Mom has a habit of taking my purse, and she did it again. So now I have no bank or credit card, and I’ve lost my favorite cocoa butter lip balm. Plus, my practice test ahead of the real one tomorrow is this afternoon."
My breathing is starting to speed up again. "How am I supposed to get home? And how can I focus on my work if I'm on a bus?"
I meet Nate's eyes. There’s a range of emotions in them. Anger. Frustration. Then…a slight smile.
