52

There were tears in Rose’s eyes. They were dripping down her cheeks.

And the expression on her face was scaring the shit out of me.

She hadn’t said anything that made sense.

She hadn’t given me a single goddamn clue of where Alix might be.

The patience I normally had was gone.

“I’m calling the police,” I said, reaching for my phone again.

“Just give me another minute,” she pleaded. “I need to check a few more things, and then you can do whatever you want.” She moved by me and went back into the bedroom and out into the hallway. She called out, “Alix,” as she checked the other rooms up here.

There was no response.

When I followed her downstairs, she flipped on another light, and it illuminated the whole kitchen.

As soon as Rose saw the space, she gasped and cried, “Oh God, no.”

I looked around to see what had upset her.

The only thing I could come up with were the small pieces of paper that were everywhere—on the counters, taped to the cabinets, spread out across the table.

There was a