Page 41 of Missing White Woman

She pulled out her phone. “Now’s a good time to start.”

We sat right next to each other. Adore already had Ty’s Instagram up. I wasn’t sure if she’d been checking it obsessively or she just hadn’t closed it the night before.

“The front’s pretty basic,” I said. “Zip-up. Plain black. No writing. It’s the only one like it he owns, though. Probably another reason he wears it so much.”

I was talking too much—overexplaining—but I couldn’t help it. I needed her to know I did know Ty. Just as well as I said I did, better than I said I did. Because it was only a matter of time before she asked the next question: Why did he lie to you about being at a hotel?

Adore started with the latest photo of our movie night, then scrolled back at rapid speed. In the photos rolling by like it was The Price Is Right, he looked happy and debonair—like the Ty I knew. The one who’d planned this trip for us. The one who would have a good reason for lying about last Monday night.

The most recent posts were hoodie-less—as much business as pleasure. NFTs and crypto and something called Web3. Posts I’d never read. Just had liked solely to be supportive. Others that predated me were all selfies and locations. A relief.

Just a few pics crowded in with his boys—all glassy-eyed from doing who knows what. We went back and back—in rows and weeks. Right as I was feeling confident, I saw it.

“Stop,” I said.

There it was. The middle pic in the last row visible on Adore’s phone.

Sade.

It was just her beautiful face. Close enough you couldn’t even see her ears. Her name in all-caps red in the inky blackness of the bottom left. SMOOTH OPERATOR written sideways in gold in a long rectangle next to her photo. Her best album.

It wasn’t the image drawn on his hoodie, but still.

“You think they’ll put two and two together?” I wasn’t able to pull my eyes away. “That they’ll realize Ty loved Sade enough to own a hoodie with her on it?”

“They?” Adore said.

“The police.”

“They probably already know, Bree. He had that hoodie with him. It could be in their evidence file right now. But they’re not the ones I’m worried about. I care more about Twitter. TikTok. Instagram.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m more concerned about an arrest than a comment.”

“What about a thousand of them?” She scrolled up until she reached the last photo. “At least the cops have rules and protocols. Instagram investigators do not.”

She handed me the phone.

There were thousands of comments now with comments under comments.

You can’t run forever. Stalking poor Janelle like that.

#Justice4Janelle

Someone needs to bash YOUR face in.

I was sick to my stomach watching you hunt Janelle down in that video. Your going to hell.

That last one had 388 likes and 46 replies. I clicked, only to find an argument.

You have no proof it’s him. If he’s going to hell, you’ll be right next to him.

Who else would it be? It’s him. You’ll see. #Justice4Janelle

And what if it is? Is it a crime for a Black guy to walk down the street now?

Janelle is clearly scared!!! What else do you need to see?

It wouldn’t be the first time a white woman was scared just because Black men exist. You’re ready to convict the man without a shred of proof.

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