Page 83 of Missing White Woman

My heart sped up. “So are we meeting her somewhere?”

“Yep. The Regency. She’s being interviewed for some news segment so she’ll text me once she’s done.”

* * *

Like Hyatt House, the Regency was another Hyatt hotel. But whereas Hyatt House looked like a bank, this one looked like a beached orange cruise ship, more wide than tall and jutting out into the greenish Hudson River so it could charge extra for “views of Manhattan.” It wasn’t until I heard the train horn that I realized I’d seen it before, when Ty and I took the PATH into Manhattan and again when I went to look for him that first day afterward.

It had taken Billie two hours to reach out. Adore had suggested I try to nap, but it was pointless. I just tossed and turned. Then picked at my food when she tried to get me to eat. I had known I wouldn’t have been able to keep it down anyway. But now we were finally here. It was so late Adore was able to find a parking spot on the street. She spoke softly as the escalator took us up to the lobby. “You remember what to do? Give her Perky Black Girl. Smile no matter what she says. Take time to answer. Remind her you’re a victim here too. She needs to remember you’re human.”

I could only nod. The nerves were back. So was the anxiety. The feeling like I was on a roller coaster making its initial climb. Up. Up. Up. Taking so long, I felt exhausted—like I’d already experienced every rise and fall and upside-down loop de loop.

“Bree, look at me.” Adore stopped right as we got off the escalator in the lobby. She pulled me into a hug. I could smell her expensive perfume. “This is going to be great,” she said. “She’s going to love you. Then she’ll let her followers know there’s no way you could’ve done all of this.”

I tried to believe her. I’d had no idea what to expect when we got to the second floor, but it wouldn’t be Billie. She hadn’t given Adore her room number, instead telling us to text when we got here.

The lobby was practically deserted. A night attendant smiled blankly in our direction as I looked around. “Can I help you?” he said.

Luckily Adore answered. “We’re waiting for a friend. Just texted her.”

“Great. Feel free to have a seat until she arrives.”

He glanced at me for the first time and I jumped, feeling completely naked even with 90 percent of my body covered.

I sucked in a breath so hard the material of my mask went an inch into my mouth. Despite the hotel’s artificial arctic feel, like that of most commercial buildings, I was sweating so much my mask was wet and my phone slipped out of my clammy hand.

When I went to pick it up, I saw him. Ty smiling at me from my lock screen.

And that’s when I knew I could stay. I could do this. That I shouldn’t have to spend even a nanosecond longer freaking out every time someone looked in my direction. I’d been there already. Done that. My sentence had lasted way longer than the actual three months I’d spent in prison. And the only way I could put all this to rest was to finally meet Billie face-to-face.

“She’s here,” Adore said.

There was no one in the hall. “I don’t see her.”

Adore nodded in the other direction and there she was. Billie. I couldn’t make out much since she was still so far away. As she got closer, more of her came into focus, like a YouTube video going from 144 to 720 pixels. The blond hair was still in her vigil style—space buns—and she was wearing all pink. I still couldn’t make out her expression, thanks to a pair of oversized sunglasses and a patterned face mask. Incognito wasn’t much fun when you were on the other side.

“Take your mask off and smile.” Adore’s voice had been a whisper.

I did, then tried to smile so hard I was surprised I didn’t blind the entire lobby with my white-stripped teeth. I stayed like that until Billie stopped a few feet away. I wasn’t sure if she was social distancing or just afraid to get too close to me. We all stayed like that longer than I cared for, none of us saying anything. Me because I wasn’t sure how to play it. Maybe her the same.

After a moment she removed her mask and sunglasses, taking me in with her blue eyes. Then she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she did. Adore was right. She looked older in person, but that just made her more attractive. She looked like a human, not some AI created version of the “perfect woman.”

Billie stared at my ASICS just long enough that I was tempted to lift my foot to show her the pink sole. But I didn’t, and she slowly continued her once-over. Then finally—thankfully—she spoke. “Breanna Wright… you’re even prettier than in all the pics I’ve seen.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of the compliment. It sounded nice. Sincere. But still, I couldn’t help but zero in on the subtext. All the pics. I’d made my social media private. That meant someone—someone I knew—had posted them, or at least sent them to her, and she wanted me to know.

I was still trying to figure out the best response when Billie spoke again. “Are you all hungry? I know it’s late, but I made sure to get us some food.”

Her eyes crinkled again, but she turned before either of us could respond. Then she walked back the way she’d come. Adore’s eyes were wide, not any more sure what to make of the onslaught of charm than I was.

“Y’all coming?” Billie called over her shoulder.

And that’s when we both followed her.

“Sorry it took so long to text, but I fell down a rabbit hole trying to edit video from the vigil.” She glanced back, this time at Adore. “Wasn’t it amazing? So many people. CNN covered it and I did a quick interview with MSNBC.”

And there it was. The Billie I had been expecting. The one who was self-involved.

“Anderson Cooper shared the sound bite of other women missing. Hopefully that brings more attention to their cases.”

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