Sophia sat alone at her dining table that night, her laptop open in front of her.
The screen cast a pale blue glow across her face, illuminating the furrow between her brows.
Outside, the city hummed with its usual evening rhythm distant sirens, the murmur of traffic, the occasional laugh drifting up from the street below.
But inside her apartment, everything was still.
A calendar occupied most of the screen.
She had already blocked out part of next week—a late lunch at that quiet restaurant near the botanical gardens, a walk through the paths afterward.
Somewhere Jane could wander without feeling rushed. Somewhere they could talk without the weight of the city pressing down on them.
Sophia had even made a reservation.
She looked at the screen again.
Thursday — 2:00 p.m.
Her fingers rested on the keyboard, motionless. Then she reached for her phone.
No message.
Nothing from Jane.
Sophia opened their conversation. Her last message was still there, sitting alone at the bottom of the screen like an unanswered question.
Please call me when you see this.
No response. No typing bubbles. No missed calls returned.
She called again.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
Then stopped.
Sophia lowered the phone, her grip tightening around the case. "Where are you?"
She stared at the empty chair across from her—the one Jane had sat in just yesterday morning, laughing over breakfast, stealing fruit from her plate.
The chair was still pushed out slightly, as if Jane might walk back in at any moment and settle into it.
Sophia had planned the date because Jane had said she liked surprises. Now she wasn't even sure Jane knew there was going to be one.
She closed the laptop with a soft click, the screen going dark.
She tried to sleep. She couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes, she reached for her phone, the screen glowing in the darkness. Still nothing.
The next morning, Sophia drove to Mr. Ben's café before going to the hospital. The streets were still quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows across the pavement. She parked and walked inside, the familiar bell chiming above her head.
The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries enveloped her. Mr. Ben was behind the counter, arranging cups with his usual meticulous care.
His eyes lifted at the sound of the bell. "Morning, Doctor."
"Morning." Sophia approached the counter, her hands resting on the worn wood.
Mr. Ben's gaze flickered over her face, reading something in her expression. "The usual?"
Sophia shook her head. "Is Jane working today?"
Mr. Ben paused, his hands stilling over the cups. "No."
Sophia's expression tightened. "Did she call in?"
"No." Mr. Ben's voice was careful.
Sophia's jaw tightened. "Have you seen her?"
"Not since yesterday." He set down the cup he'd been holding. "She was supposed to work the afternoon shift, but she never showed up."
Sophia's stomach dropped. "Did she say anything? Send a message?"
Mr. Ben shook his head slowly. "No. That's not like her."
Sophia looked toward the empty tables, the quiet café, the absence of Jane's laughter behind the counter. "Are you sure?"
Mr. Ben nodded. "I'm sure."
Sophia thanked him and left, the door swinging shut behind her.
She drove to the dormitory, her fingers gripping the steering wheel. The building looked the same as always—brick and windows, students streaming in and out, the hum of young life filling the air.
Sophia parked and walked inside, her heels clicking against the linoleum. The receptionist looked up when she approached—a middle-aged man with wire-rimmed glasses and a patient expression.
"Excuse me." Sophia's voice was steady, but her hands were trembling slightly. "I'm looking for Jane. Jane Avery."
The man checked the register, his finger tracing down the list. "She hasn't been around since yesterday."
Sophia's stomach tightened. "What about her roommate? Mia?"
"Mia?"
"Yes. They share a room." Sophia's voice was clipped, urgent.
The man checked again, then shook his head. "Haven't seen her either."
Sophia hesitated, her mind racing. "Do you have a number for either of them? A contact number?"
The man's expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry. We don't give out residents' personal numbers."
Sophia's jaw tightened. "I understand."
She stepped away from the desk, her hands clenched at her sides. For a moment, she stood outside the entrance, her phone in her hand, the morning sun warm against her face.
She called Jane again.
Nothing.
She tried Mia.
Nothing.
Sophia stared at the screen, the names blurring before her eyes.
She had no idea where to look next.
At the hospital, Sophia went through her morning rounds on autopilot. She spoke to patients, their voices distant and muffled.
Reviewed charts, the words swimming before her eyes. Signed orders, her signature a mechanical scrawl. Answered questions, her responses clipped and professional.
But something kept pulling at her attention. Her phone remained beside her on the desk, face-up, screen dark. Every vibration made her look. Every notification made her heart leap.
None of them were Jane.
Clara noticed. Of course she did. She appeared in Sophia's doorway mid-morning, her arms crossed, her gaze knowing.
"You've checked that phone six times." Clara's voice was gentle, teasing.
Sophia looked up, startled. "I haven't."
"You have." Clara walked in and sat across from her. "I've been counting."
Sophia returned her attention to the file in front of her, but the words blurred. "I'm waiting for a call."
"From Jane?" Clara's voice softened.
Sophia nodded.
Clara leaned forward. "Still nothing?"
"No." Sophia closed the file, her fingers pressing against the cover.
Clara studied her, her expression shifting. "Did something happen between you two?"
"No." Sophia's voice was firm. "Nothing happened. Everything was fine."
She set the file aside. "I don't know."
Clara pulled the chair closer, her elbows resting on her knees. "You went to her dorm?"
"Yes." Sophia's voice was hollow.
"And the café?"
"Yes."
"And nobody knows where she is?"
Sophia shook her head. "I even called her roommate. No answer."
Clara was quiet for a moment. "Have you tried calling her family?"
Sophia looked down at her hands. "I don't have their contact."
"Then there's nothing else you can do right now." Clara's voice was gentle, but firm.
Sophia looked at her, something raw flickering in her eyes. "I know."
"But you're not listening to yourself." Clara's gaze was steady.
Sophia opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.
Clara softened. "You're worried."
Sophia didn't argue. "I am."
"Then don't punish yourself for it." Clara's voice was warm, understanding.
Sophia looked toward the window, the city sprawling beneath the pale winter sky. "I just want to know she's safe."