Sleep had been a good idea. Polly passed out on the couch so Ethan had shown me to the only spare 'room', a small open space in the basement. It appeared to be part-studio-part-storage, large half-finished paintings stacked against the wall, though there was a twin bed pushed into the corner. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The bed had a heavy duvet to protect from the chill of the basement and burrowing under its weight was particularly comforting. I slept soundly, unbothered by dreams for the first time in what seemed like forever.

I awoke refreshed, like Matilda's torturous exorcism was just a bad dream that was quickly fading from memory. When I made my way upstairs and found the kitchen already busy and packed.

Tory and Anja were at the table, helping themselves to the stack of pancakes from the middle of the table. They chattered away, like this was any other morning. Ethan was at the stove, wearing an orange checkered apron, making even more pancakes. And Polly was in the corner, nursing a very large mug of what looked like black coffee. She looked worse than she had last night. The wine had caught up with her.

"Morning," I said, catching myself mid-yawn.

Ethan gave me a smile and a nod. Polly just grunted.

"Oh, I know you," Anja said, perking up as she saw me. "You're Rachel, aren't you?"

"That's right," Tory said, topping up his coffee cup. "She's staying with us for a while. If that's okay."

"That should be fine," Anja said. She tapped at her temple. "They seem to like her."

I tried to smile. Should I be happy that the spirits that were attached to Anja liked me?

"Sit," Ethan said, coming up from behind me. "You should get some food in you before we get started."

That made everyone perk up—aside from Anja, of course, who had no idea what was going on. As we exchanged glances, I saw all the signs of anxiety. Tight jaws, twitchy brows. We were nervous. Our plan was tenuous, but it was all we had.

After breakfast, Ethan took his oma to get ready for an outing with her Seniors Care Group and we were left with planning the task that loomed over us like a dark cloud. The tension was back, hanging heavy around the table. Tory was staring intently at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs. Last night, he had seemed so on board for the (admittedly flimsy) plan, but now he seemed to be regretting saying yes so fast.

Polly had recovered enough that she was now nibbling on a cold pancake. "So?" she said, her voice gravelly. "Are we gonna do the thing?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Ethan?" Tory asked, nervously glancing down the hall where Ethan and Anja had disappeared.

"Does Ethan really need to be here to make a phone call?" Polly snapped.

"Do you?" Tory shot back.

"Maybe if you be trusted not to fuck it up—"

"Cut it out!" I shouted, chopping my hand down between them. "Bickering isn't going to solve anything. And neither is procrastinating, Tory."

"The sooner you start, the sooner it's over," Polly said, almost sing-song this time.

"Fine! Fine," Tory said. "I'll do it."

He pulled out his phone

I watched over his shoulder as he pulled up his contacts. Under 'Favorites' Luc's name topped the list, even over Ethan's. I frowned at that. Kid was either a workaholic or had some iffy boundaries.

Tory took a deep breath and jabbed at Luc's name. The call started. As it began to ring, I felt a shiver of electricity move over my skin. It had only been a few days since I had last heard him speak, but it seemed like forever.

The phone continued to ring and ring, before finally giving way to Luc's voicemail.

"You've reached Luc. I am out of town on personal business. I am currently not accepting appointments. Please do not leave a message as I am not checking them." The message ended with a robotic voice informing us that the mailbox was full.

Hearing his voice again was even worse than I had been expecting. It felt so familiar but so alien at the same time. It made the pain of missing him spike. I had to close my eyes to weather it.

"See?" Tory said, waving his phone around. "He's not answering my calls."

"What about text?" I offered.

"He's reading them, I think," Tory said, opening his messages app to show us. His text conversation with Luc had been mostly one sided for the past several days. "But he doesn't often respond."

"Not even if you tell him I disappeared?" I asked.

Tory's face blanched. "Are we still going with that?"

"That was the plan," Polly said, sounding irritated.

"Yeah," I asked. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Because I wasn't joking when I said he would kill me," Tory said, his tone grave. "If he thinks my incompetence put you in danger, he'll... Well, it won't be pretty."

I knew Luc well; most of the time he was a quiet, measured person. But when you made him angry... He could be terrifying. The idea that my well being would send him on a warpath was strangely flattering, even if I knew it was stupid. I tried to casually turn my head so they couldn't see the blush I could feel warming my face.

"If you're too much of a coward," Polly snapped, snatching the still-unlocked phone out of Tory's hands. "I'll do it for you."

Tory jumped up to try and stop Polly, but, despite her hangover, she was good at dodging him. Every time he lunged for the phone, she managed to push him away. They kept up this awkward dance as she tapped out a message.

"There," she said, finally stopping and dropping the phone into his reaching hands. "Sent."

"Oh no..." Tory groaned, his shoulders dropping.

I leaned over his shoulder to get a look at Polly's handiwork.

Polly's message was brutally straight to the point—just like her.

Rachel is missing.

Not even thirty seconds passed before Tory's phone started to ring, the name LUC flashing on the screen. Tory, eyes wide with panic, looked between us like the phone in his hand was a bomb and we were the only ones who knew how to defuse it.

"Answer it, you idiot," Polly hissed. "And put it on speaker."

Tory did as Polly commanded. He answered the call and hit the speaker button.

"Hello?" Tory whispered into the mic, cringing as if he was expecting a punch.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'she's missing'?" came Luc's voice from the other end. It came out more like a growl, his voice raspy and low.

Yup, he was pissed.

Hearing his voice hit me even harder than it had when I heard the voicemail message. This was him, in real time, just on the other side of the phone. It felt like he might as well be inches away and I could reach out and touch him. The worst part was that I wanted to, even after everything.

"E-Exactly what I said," Tory muttered back. "I went to check on her, like you asked me to, and... and she was nowhere to be seen. I looked everywhere. I checked the whole shop, the street, that store where she works, Polly's..."

"When exactly did you go to check on her?" Luc demanded.

Tory gulped. "Yesterday morning..."

"Yesterday?!" Luc roared. There was a pause where you could only hear his heavy breathing as he fought to regain control. The next time he spoke, his voice was much more even, but hard and sharp like steel. "She's been missing since yesterday, and you only now decided to tell me now?"

"I-I was busy looking for her!" Tory said. "I didn't want to interrupt you—"

"I told you that if there was anything wrong—anything at all—with Rachel, to tell me immediately, didn't I? Interruptions be damned."

The desperation in his voice made my heart stutter. He really was worried about me. Even if I didn't agree with his methods, knowing he cared so much did funny things to my head... and my heart.

Tory tried to continue. "Yes, but—"

"No 'but's." Luc muttered what sounded like curses under his breath. "Meet me at the shop in an hour. Don't be late." And then he hung up.

"Well," Polly said, looking smug. "Guess we have a date."

🔮

What do you think will happen when they see Luc again?