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“I’m just worried about her,” she says, wiping her eyes.
“I’ll go look around for her. You stay here in case she comes back for some reason,” I say.
“Okay.” She nods.
I grab my truck keys and my phone. The last thing I want to do is go out looking for Sophia. I’m still so angry at her, but I’d do anything for my sister.
I try calling her on my way to the truck, but it just goes straight to voicemail. I don’t know how to get a hold of her friend, Becca. I dive over to her apartment building, running into someone from the building when I pull in.
“Excuse me, did they get the apartments fixed?” I ask.
The person looks at me like I'm crazy.
“Oh, you mean the ones that flooded?” the girl asks.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, they got those fixed yesterday,” she says before climbing into her car.
I get out of the truck, heading up to Sophia’s apartment and knocking on the door.
“Sophia, are you in there?” I yell.
“She left a few hours ago,” a guy from across the hall says, looking pissed at me for being so loud.
“Okay, thanks. Sorry about that,” I say as he closes the door.
I decide the next logical place to check would be the hospital, so I head in that direction, grabbing the first available spot in the parking garage.
I reach the Psych floor a few moments later and see her friend––Becca––scowling at me from behind the glass.
“What do you want?” she asks.
This one doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Have you seen Sophia?” I ask.
“If I had I wouldn’t tell you,” she says.
“Fair enough,” I say, heading back towards the elevator.
“You know, you should at least respect her enough to hear her story,” she says before walking down the hall.
I step into the elevator. She’s right. I owe it to her to let her tell me what’s going on.
I try calling her again with no luck. I have no idea where else she could be.
Three hours, a lot of aimless driving around town, and many unanswered calls later, I finally pull back into the driveway. Kinsley is sitting on the front porch when I pull up.
“Any luck?” I ask her, getting out of the truck.
“I just got off the phone with her. She said she just needed to clear her head. Her apartment was finished so she left this morning.”
“I’m glad you talked to her,” I say, joining her on the steps.
“I’m sorry she didn’t answer you,” she says, looking over at me.
“It’s fine. I don’t really deserve her kindness right now,” I admit.
