Page 114 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

I turned away, heading for the door. Entering the code on the inner security pad, I stepped outside and took a seat on the porch. Then I ordered a rideshare. While I waited, I texted Vivi, trying to control my trembling fingers.

I’m heading into the city. If you don’t hear from me in two hours, contact this number. His name is Christian. Give him this address. If you don’t hear back, or if he gives you any reason to be suspicious, contact the police.

I took a photo of the memo paper and sent it, then copied Christian’s cell and pasted that, sending it afterward. I crumbled the memo paper and stuffed it into my pocket.

Vivi

What the hell is going on, Elle? Did you find Bastian?

I sighed.

I found him but…it’s a long story. Just, promise you’ll do it, okay? Two hours. If I don’t text you in two hours…

Dots appeared and her message came through.

Vivi

Then I’ll send that photo to Christian and tell him…what?

My rideshare app binged, giving me a two minute warning.

Tell him that I’m in trouble and need him to come get me.

It took ten seconds before my phone started ringing with Vivi’s name. I didn’t answer. If I did, she’d talk me out of this. I ignored her call and texted.

Just do it, Vivs, please.

Vivi

Fine. Two hours. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll contact that number. But I can’t promise I won’t come looking for you myself.

Don’t you dare! Promise me you won’t.

Vivi

You’re fucking insane. If something happens to you I won’t forgive myself.

Nothing is going to happen! Just do it. Please.

Vivi

Fine.

Vivi

I love you.

I love you too.

My ride share pulled into the driveway—a four-door sedan—and I climbed in. My driver confirmed my name and address and then silence fell. I tried not to think about what had happened. My hands hadn’t stopped trembling. Instead, I scrolled through social media, trying to distract myself.

The industrial side of the city was opposite of Kentwood. Surprise, surprise. So, it took nearly thirty minutes to get to the address. The driver pulled up and parked, then turned back to look at me. “You sure you want me to drop you off here?” she said.

“Yep. Meeting a friend. Thanks.”

She hesitated, then nodded. I climbed out and tipped her on my phone, adjusting the backpack. The sun had nearly set, so I was running out of time. The air smelled of diesel fumes and something metallic, with an underlying staleness that made my nose wrinkle.

I listened as the sedan drove away, peering through the fence. It was chain link, but there wasn’t any barbed wire. I walked along it. The parking lot was empty. The occasional semi drove past, churning up the air along the road. Otherwise, everything was silent.