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Stepping into my office, I immediately noticed Sophia's absence. Where was she? My concern grew as I scanned the room. Deciding to get some information, I stopped a passing colleague.
"Hey, have you seen Sophia?" I asked.
"No, she didn't come in today," the employee replied.
I frowned, a sense of unease creeping in. "Do you know if something happened to her?"
The colleague shook their head. "I'm not sure. She's been absent for a few days now."
A few days? That wasn't like Sophia. I couldn't help but worry – was she okay? I returned to my office and took a closer look at her desk. It was tidy, but I noticed some of her items were missing. A tight knot formed in my chest. Why were her belongings gone?
I took a deep breath, reminding myself not to jump to conclusions. I sank into my chair, trying to steady my racing thoughts. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this.
I couldn't let the unease continue to gnaw at me. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Sophia's number, hoping for a quick reassurance that she was fine.
The first ring, then the second, and... no answer. I tried again, my heart sinking with each unanswered call. It wasn't like her to miss my calls, especially when I was concerned.
After a series of unsuccessful attempts, a nervous frustration grew. She had always been reachable, and this silence was unsettling. My fingers danced over the screen as I composed a message.
‘Hey Sophia, I've been trying to reach you. I heard you haven't been at the office for a few days. Everything alright?’
With the message sent, I leaned back in my chair, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities. Maybe she was catching up on much-needed rest if she wasn't feeling well, or perhaps she had something important to attend to.
Regardless, I reassured myself that she would surely get in touch once she saw my missed calls and messages.
As minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but fidget, my gaze periodically drifting to my phone. Each second felt like an eternity.
I tried to busy myself with other tasks to distract from the growing worry, but it was no use. I just hoped beyond hope that she was okay and that she would reach out soon.
Enough was enough. Sophia was not returning my calls and messages, and after waiting three days, I couldn’t wait any longer, so I went to her home.
It was odd that she hadn’t come to work for a week. At first, I wanted to give her space, thinking she was upset at my sudden disappearance, but it seemed like something else had happened.
She hadn’t come to work in ten days, including the days I was away.
There was no way she would hold a grudge for so long, especially since I had already given her a heads-up.
I knocked on the door, but there was no response.
“Sophia?” I called out, knocking on the door again.
Was she ignoring me? My patience was already wearing thin. I moved away from the door and checked the windows.
There was no sign that anyone was inside. Was she sleeping in her room? Had something happened?
My mind went through so many scenarios, and the thought that maybe she had been kidnapped by Francisco filled me with fear.
Was that why Francisco had been quiet all this time? Was it because he had already kidnapped Sophia?
My concern for Sophia outweighed any hesitations about crossing boundaries. I knew I had to act quickly.
Leaving her apartment's hallway, I maintained a composed demeanor as I discreetly assessed my surroundings. I needed to find a way in without raising any suspicions.
I slipped around the side of the building, where the kitchen window was partially shielded by a large shrub.
Keeping my movements natural and unhurried, I reached into my pocket and retrieved a pair of disposable gloves – a precautionary measure to avoid leaving fingerprints.
A small sigh of relief escaped my lips as I examined the window. It was unlocked. While relieved, I couldn’t help but worry at how careless she had been.
