Page 38 of The Matchmaker

“That’s Logan.” I point him out. “Kind of a weird coincidence, right?”

“Thatisweird.” She looks at me. “You think he was following us?”

“Who knows? Since that note I feel paranoid about everything.”

“I can’t blame you. I’m glad you cleared your schedule for this afternoon,” she tells me. “You need to take your mind off things.”

Logan is not following you,I chide myself. He didnotleave that note. He had no reason to. It’s like Darcy said, whoever left it proved their point. Spooked me within an inch of my life and moved on. I need to clear my head. Get out the adrenaline pumping uselessly in my system. I’ll stop for groceries, and then I’ll lace up my sneakers and hit the track near my house. The park is always packed with soccer practices and baseball games around this time of day. It’s safe. A run will do me good.

I get in my car and turn on the ignition. The small space fills with welcome air-conditioning. Before I pull out of the parking spot, I text Azar.

Let’s get this out of the way: Zayna hates me, right?

Three dots immediately appear.

What? She loved meeting you!

Mmmhmm,I reply.

We need to all grab dinner ASAP, he texts. You’ll love her.

Is that what you’re starting to feel toward her, Azar?I wonder.Love?

As I made my way down the highway, my phone rings. I move to decline, but I pause at the name blinking on the screen:Stark Residential Security Services.

The woman on the other line asks me to answer a host of verification questions, then—

“We received an alert that your house alarm has gone off.”

I draw a sharp intake of breath. “I—I’m not home.”

“It looks like Zone One was activated. There may be no need to worry. Alarms go off for all kinds of reasons. We have an officer en route to check out the property.”

I take the first exit off the interstate.Chill, Nura,I try to tell myself. That rickety front door triggers the alarm even when it’s snugly secured, though it’s never done it when I wasn’t home. Gripping the steering wheel, I accelerate through a yellow light and roll through each stop sign until I turn onto my street.

It’s fine. Nothing is wrong. Stay calm.

But calm, I realize once I pull into my driveway, is something I’m not sure I’ll ever feel again. The alarm screams. It pulses through the sleepy street as though warning of an impending air raid.

My front door is open. Flapping back and forth in the breeze.

Unsteadily, I stumble out of my car. Wind tousles my hair. I inch closer to the opening. From the foot of my steps, I scan the door for signs of damage. There’s no way I’m getting any closer. I’ll wait for the police.

Then my blood goes cold.

Gertie.

Rational thought vanishes. I take the front steps two at a time and stumble into the foyer. I rush into my living room andsurvey the scene. My television. The expensive speakers that Azar gifted me two years ago. My spare MacBook rests on the bookshelf. Everything is still here.

“Gertie!” I call out. I grab the tin can with her favorite salmon treats. The ones that coax her from her coziest of hideaways. I rattle it as I hurry through the rest of the house.

I scream her name until my voice goes hoarse, flipping open cabinets, scanning beneath my bed, but as police lights flash outside the windows, I already know.

Gertie is gone.

Ten

It’s been three days and there’s been no word on Gertie.

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