Page 14 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

“It’s probably just a fluke, right?” She sips, then wraps her arm around her leg. “She could’ve skipped town with a boyfriend.”

I find myself nodding, although I don’t know if I believe it.

So instead, I ask, “When’s your first class?”

“One. But I can do homework in the library. Natalie said she and Jeff would walk me home from work tonight.” She bites her lip. “I met Amber once. She was nice.”

I shake my head. “There’s no use worrying about it now. We’ll stick together going to campus. But serial abduction? Seems kind of rare.”

Don’t do anything stupid, Liam had warned.

“I need a shower,” Whitney says suddenly, shoving back from the table.

She disappears down the hall, and I scroll through the local news sites on my phone. There isn’t too much today, just a brief headline about Amber still being missing. Already, the shock of it is dying down. One source suggests, like Whitney did, that maybe she just left town.

It takes less than an hour for Whitney and me to get ready, then we head to campus together. We walk side by side, heads down against the icy chill. We pass the locked walking entrance, and Whitney huffs.

“Ridiculous,” she mutters.

“They’ll probably unlock it by tomorrow,” I say. “They’re kind of overreacting.”

We sign ourselves in at the guard booth and go our separate ways. I make a beeline for the coffee stand, and Whitney heads for the library.

“Morning,” the girl at the stand says. “Your regular?”

I come here a lot.

I nod and slide a five-dollar bill across the counter.

She gives me my change, and I step aside while her coworker constructs my drink.

“I like your hair,” a boy says. He’s just a few feet away, his hands in his pockets. “Kinda emo, you know?”

“Right.” I make a show of inspecting him up and down.

Short haircut, a navy-blue peacoat, sockless loafers.

“You from the Cape?” I ask.

He snorts and extends his hand. “Mitchel Norton.”

I take that as a yes.

“Skylar Buckley.”

“Nice to meet you, Skylar.” He squeezes my hand, then releases me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.”

“No? This is my favorite coffee spot.”

“Skylar,” the barista says.

I hoist my bag and pick up my coffee: an iced white chocolate mocha, plus an extra shot of espresso and a chocolate drizzle on top. Perfect for a sweet tooth junkie like me. I take a sip, then barely stop my obnoxious smile.

“Mitch,” the barista calls.

He grabs the cup.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” I say, backing away.

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