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Mackenzie read Sterling’s message again.Let me make it up to you. Dinner tomorrow?She mulled over his intentions. She was the one who had been cruel. So why was he taking the first step? Did he feel guilty for fooling her?

Being with Sterling was like walking around with a knife lodged in her back. The knife that her husband had impaled her with. She felt it every time she moved, every time she breathed. She’d thought she would get used to it—the hollow ache.

But it didn’t ebb; it multiplied.

She flipped open Abby’s diary again and skimmed through the entries. Her fingers traced the ragged edges of the ripped-out pages. She hadn’t come across any entry talking about the money she stole or anything indicating a desire to escape. If anything, Abby came off as tenacious and determined. Mackenzie had been reading the entries in order but out of curiosity, she flipped to the last one.

Dear diary,

Whenever Erica and I fought and wouldn’t talk, something would be missing from my day. Now, something is missing from my life. The world might have treated me like less, but she always looked at me like I was more. She never gave up on me. Despite my cynicism and pessimism. I can never give up on her. I will never give up on her. I have to know what happened.

Mackenzie’s mind raced. Nearly all the pages that were torn out came after this entry, with just two or three missing before. And, unlike the others, there was no date, and it was written in black ink as opposed to blue. Had Abby written this after Erica went missing? What did it mean?

The door to Sully’s office opened, and he came out with Nick.

“Mack? Why are you here? It’s almost ten!” Sully snorted.

“What are you two doing here?” She put the diary away.

“Dodging calls from reporters. And dealing with the FBI.”

“They’re consulting on the case?”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Sending an agent Monday. We’ll brief him first thing in the morning.”

She glanced at Nick. His expression was guarded. His face didn’t give anything away, but Nick’s face never did. It was always his body that reacted. He craned his neck and stretched his arms. Picking up his coffee cup, he realized it was empty. He scowled and slammed it back on his desk.

“What are you doing here so late?” Sully asked.

“Waiting to get some information on Abby’s phone. I found it in a washroom at the gas station.”

“She ditched her phone? What did I tell you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m telling you, Mack. Girl lost it after Erica went missing and just wanted to get away.”

“She also left the money in that washroom. Wouldn’t she have taken it if she were running away?”

Sully frowned.

“Yeah. Something’s off,” Nick agreed.

She didn’t show her satisfaction or relief. She didn’t have a sounding board for this case, and it had irked her. She had been tempted several times to talk to Nick. But she labeled those as weak moments.

She was just lonely. It was soul-sucking and squeezed her heart just enough for her to be in constant pain. She dealt with it by sitting straighter, looking fiercer and sounding bolder.

Justin walked in, sulking. His eyebrows dipped; his lips puckered.

“You don’t look happy,” she said dryly. “Please give me some news.”

“The phone doesn’t belong to Abby, ma’am.”

“What? Whose is it?”

He shifted on his heels and glanced at Nick and Sully. “It belongs to Erica Perez.”

Mackenzie’s phone slipped from her grip and fell to her lap. The thought didn’t plant itself. The words floated in her head: transient, abstract, and confusing. She stared at Justin dumbfounded. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nick and Sully freeze.