Page 47 of Missing

"Alright then," I mumbled, reaching out to swipe the card across the fob. To my surprise, the door clicked open almost instantly.

"See? Told you," Griffin smirked, clearly enjoying the fact that he had been right.

"Whatever," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Stepping inside, I felt like I’d just walked into the fucking Ritz. The room was massive, at least three times bigger than my old one – not that it hadn't been massive as well. But this? This was some next-level shit.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath as I took in the sight before me. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a huge window draped with thick, luxurious curtains dominated the far wall.

But what really caught my eye was the bed. It sat right in the middle of the room, and it was easily the size of two king beds put together. The twisted black metal frame looked like something straight out of a Tim Burton film, and I half expected the Nightmare Before Christmas cast to come dancing out from under it.

Griffin's laughter echoed in the cavernous room, drawing my attention back to him. "This bed looks like the one my parents have back home," he said with a smirk.

"Parents? How many do you have?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Three," Griffin replied, leaning against the doorframe. "One mum and two dads. My mum is the central."

"Interesting," I mused, wondering what it would be like to grow up in such a family dynamic. "And Dante and Orlando?"

"That's a question for them to answer, not me," Griffin said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm sure they'd be happy to play 100 questions with you."

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Squinting my eyes at Griffin, I noticed my duffel bag on the floor, crammed full of my things. On top of the massive bed were two freshly washed school uniforms, folded and waiting for me.

Griffin's phone rang, cutting through the silence and causing us both to jump. He pulled it out of his pocket and winced at the screen, clearly not wanting to talk to whoever was calling.

"Hey, if you need some privacy for that call, I can step out," I offered, trying to keep my voice casual. But Griffin shook his head, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"Nope, this is probably something you'll want to know too," he said cryptically before hitting the answer button. "Hey, Mum." He made his way across the room, sinking into an occasional chair near the window as he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance that I could tell was forced.

"Griffin, darling, how are you?" his mother's voice floated through the speaker, warm and lilting.

"Fine, Mum, just…busy," Griffin replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His gaze flicked toward me, and I raised my eyebrows at him in silent question. What was so important about this call that he thought I should hear it?

"Busy? With what?" his mother asked, curiosity piqued. "Are you getting into trouble again, Griffin?"

"Jesus, no, Mum, nothing like that," he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration.

Griffin's thumb hovered over the speakerphone button, his eyes searching mine for permission. I gave him a nod, and he pressed it down, the sound of his mother's voice filling the room.

"Alright, Mum, I've got you on loudspeaker," Griffin said, his voice betraying his nerves. "We need to ask you about someone you might've known back in school—or maybe from the army."

"Sure, what's the name?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Griffin looked at me as he said "Harper what's your parent's name?"

My heart pounded in my chest as I uttered their names "Bonnie Hillstrom and Shane Bentley."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, long enough for me to wonder if we'd lost the connection. Then Griffin's mom spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, dear, I knew them both. Bonnie was my best friend."

I felt my breath catch in my throat, my hands trembling with the weight of this revelation.

Griffin takes a deep breath and says "Well, mum Harper here is Bonnie's daughter, and is our central"

"Bonnie's daughter?" Griffin's mom gasped as if the words themselves were a shock to her system. "Harper is your central?" Her voice was gentle and warm, but there was something else beneath it—something I couldn't quite place.

"I didn't even know she had a daughter. How is your mother, Harper?" she asked, genuine concern lacing her words.

"Living like a human, drowning in alcohol," I admitted, trying not to let the bitterness seep into my tone. "She's not really...there."

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