By the fourth day, I am going a little crazy.
Devan has been gone since Monday morning. There was no explanation beyond a quick text saying he had work out of town.
At first I told myself it was fine. He traveled sometimes. His job demanded weird hours and sudden trips. Rachel had mentioned it herself. He rarely lived home. It was normal.
What wasn't normal was the way the quiet in the house seemed louder without him there which is exactly why I find myself sitting in a booth at Phil's Diner on a Thursday night.
The neon lights buzz softly above the windows, casting warm reflections on the rain-slicked street outside. The place smells like fries and coffee, the familiar comfort of it easing the tight knot in my chest.
Sal slides into the booth across from me, shaking rain from her jacket.
"Is there a reason you look like someone stole your favorite hoodie?" Sal asks, grabbing a fry from my plate.
"Great. So it's that obvious?" I sigh.
Sal pops the fry into her mouth.
