The drive home was a blur. City lights streaked past the window, neon signs flashing vibrant blues and reds against the darkness. The streets pulsed with life. A part of me wanted to roll down the window, breathe it all in, ground myself in something real. But reality felt distant, like I was watching everything through a fog.
Jasmine's hands were steady on the wheel, but her grip on the steering wheel was tight—too tight. She hadn't spoken much since we left Hector's apartment, only throwing me quick glances every few minutes as if checking to see if I was still breathing.
"Do you want to talk?" she finally asked, her voice soft.
I blinked at my reflection in the car window. My face was pale, lips slightly parted like I had been about to say something but never found the words. I swallowed. "I don't know what to say."
Jasmine nodded, as if she expected that answer. "That's okay."
Silence settled between us again, but my mind refused to be still.
Hector's empty apartment. The way everything was gone, wiped clean like he had never lived there. The single chair left behind, positioned in the middle of the room like a ghost of something unfinished.
"Sarah, this is goodbye."
The words replayed in my head, over and over, each time cutting deeper.
Something wasn't right.
I squeezed my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms. "Jas... you don't think he really just left, do you?"
Jasmine exhaled through her nose. "Honestly? No. That's not Hector."
Relief washed through me. At least I wasn't the only one who felt it.
"But," she continued, "I also don't know what to make of it. People don't just vanish like that. And if they do, it's because something happened."
Something happened.
I shivered and hugged myself.
Jasmine reached over and turned on the heater. "You're freezing."
I hadn't even realized it. The cold wasn't just outside—it had settled deep in my bones, a gnawing emptiness that refused to leave.
I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I wasn't in the car anymore.
I was in Hector's apartment a week ago.
He had been distracted that night, his gaze flicking toward the window more times than I could count. I had been talking about work, about the ridiculous thing my boss said, but he had barely responded.
"Hector, are you even listening?" I had asked, playfully nudging his arm.
"Of course," he had replied too quickly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Liar.
I had known something was off, but I had told myself it was just work stress.
Looking back now, I realized—it wasn't.
Hector had been anxious, on edge. When his phone buzzed, he had stiffened before checking it, his expression unreadable. And then, without a word, he had excused himself to the bathroom, phone clutched tightly in his hand.
I had let it go then.
Now, I regretted it.
I jolted back to the present as Jasmine pulled up in front of my apartment.
The building loomed over us, familiar yet foreign. How could everything look the same when my entire world had shifted?
Jasmine turned off the engine but made no move to get out. She faced me, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to stay over?"
I shook my head, my voice hoarse. "I just need to be alone for a bit."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
No.
But I nodded anyway.
Jasmine sighed but didn't push. "Okay. But if you need anything—anything at all—call me."
I nodded again and reached for the door handle. My fingers trembled.
"Sarah."
I paused.
Jasmine's eyes were steady. "You don't have to figure this out tonight. Just... breathe, okay?"
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Yeah."
Lies.
Because the truth was, I couldn't breathe.
And I definitely wasn't going to sleep.
MY APARTMENT
The apartment felt suffocating.
I kicked off my shoes and tossed my bag onto the couch, but the air was thick with a heaviness I couldn't shake. Hector's hoodie was still draped over the chair in the corner, a painful reminder of his presence. I walked over and picked it up, pressing it to my face.
His scent still lingered.
I sank onto the couch, curling into myself, clutching the fabric like it was the last piece of him I had left.
Tears threatened to spill, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn't bring him back.
I pulled out my phone instead.
Message after message.
"Hector, where are you?"
"Please, just call me."
"I don't understand."
"Talk to me."
No response.
I gritted my teeth and dialed his number again.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail.
I squeezed my eyes shut, frustration clawing at my chest.
Then, without thinking, I scrolled through my gallery.
Photo after photo of us.
Hector laughing at a street food stand, sauce smeared on his cheek.
Hector holding my hand across a café table.
Hector asleep on my couch, his arm thrown over his face.
I stopped at one picture.
It was a photo of us in his apartment. I was sitting on his lap, leaning into his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. His face was half-hidden in my hair, but I could see it—he was smiling.
Happy.
So why would someone happy just disappear?
I clenched my jaw.
No. Something wasn't right.
And I wasn't going to just sit here and do nothing.
---
Morning Came Too Soon
I hadn't slept.
The hours had stretched on, the darkness pressing against the windows as I sat curled up on the couch, staring at nothing. Every sound outside had made me jump—the rustling of leaves, the hum of passing cars, the creak of my neighbors' footsteps in the hallway.
It wasn't paranoia.
It was a feeling.
A heavy, undeniable feeling that something was wrong.
The first rays of sunlight seeped through the blinds when I heard the knock at my door.
I sat up too quickly, my heart racing.
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the lock before I finally opened it.
Jasmine stood there, holding two cups of coffee, looking at me like she already knew I hadn't slept.
"You look awful," she said, stepping inside.
"Thanks," I muttered, rubbing my face.
She handed me a cup, watching as I took a slow sip. "Did you sleep at all?"
I shook my head.
Jasmine exhaled. "I figured." She set her own cup down and crossed her arms. "Okay, Sarah. We need a plan."
I looked at her, exhaustion making my thoughts sluggish. "A plan?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "Because you're not just going to sit here and drive yourself crazy. We're going to figure this out."
I wanted to believe her.
But deep down, I knew—answers wouldn't come easily.
Still, there was one thing I was sure of.
Hector was gone.
But I wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Not yet.
And I was going to find out the truth.