Page 71 of The Burdens We Share
He hangs up the phone and I quickly slide it into my back pocket and race out of my trailer. I sprint to Aria’s and bang on the door rapidly. She quickly swings it open and I have to dodge it from smacking me in the face, “Dude,” she greets.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, anxiety in my tone.
She shakes her head, “I have no idea.”
“We need to meet Harvey and Dallas like right now.”
Aria closes the trailer door behind her and charges down the stairs, “Let’s go.”
We run like two mad women through the set, weaving in and out of groups of people until we make it to the parking lot where we both hop in my car. I’ve never been so grateful to have my phone work as a key fob. I race out of the lot and on the highway to NexGen as Aria asks, “Where do you think she is?”
“I have no clue. She would never not tell Harvey where she’s going and not to mention, she would never not tell us either,” I remind her.
She nods, her cheeks red from our run to my car, “Where the fuck could she be?” She asks herself.
I answer, “I have no clue. She was supposed to be on set today.”
Aria cracks her fingers anxiously, “I know.”
The rest of the ride is silent and neither of us speaks on the feeling I know we both have. And that is a sinking, ominous feeling in our guts that feels a lot like something really bad is happening.
I drive like a madwoman to NexGen Securities and park across three spots, not giving a single fuck because my best friend is missing. Aria and I leap out of the car and I barely remember to turn it off before we’re sprinting into the building. The receptionist, Lisa, lets us right in having recognized me and I ignore the confused and judgemental look on her face asI focus on the elevator. We take it up to the fifth floor and race down the hall to Dallas’ office.
I slam my shoulder into the door and barge inside to find Dallas at his computer. He looks up at me immediately and the intense set of his jaw seems to ease only a fraction before he focuses back on whatever it was he was doing on the screen. Selene stands beside him, her usually pristine hair mussed with some strands escaping. She wears a loose-fitted blouse with black slacks, and under usual circumstances, I would probably make a judgemental comment about her poor fashion taste, but now is certainly not the time. My gaze settles on Harvey next. He’s seated in one of the armchairs on the opposite side of Dallas’ desk, a laptop open in front of him. He doesn’t turn around to acknowledge our presence, solely focused on finding Brody.
“Anything?” Aria asks, her voice breathless from having run.
Selene looks up at us and I feel a churn in my stomach at the worry and fear in her eyes. Selene is supposed to be our rock. She keeps us grounded and she’s the strongest of us all. If she’s this worried and disheveled, it doesn’t reassure me in the slightest. If anything, it worsens my anxiety. She shakes her head, “No.”
I rush over to the desk, Aria on my heels. Harvey speaks without looking up from his computer, “I’ve looked at nearly every traffic cam in a twenty-mile radius and there’s nothing.”
“That can’t be possible. She couldn’t have just disappeared,” Dallas protests.
Harvey flips the computer towards Dallas and urges him, “You look because I’m telling you I just did and she’sgone.” He shoots up from his seat and storms off, kicking the other chair across the room with aggression.
I walk around the desk and stand beside Dallas, needing his proximity to comfort me in this moment. I watch as hepresses play on some traffic cam clip of Brody’s car pulling up to where it was found. It’s strange. The video just shows her car appearing and then just staying there. Nobody gets out and nobody gets in. So how was her car found empty?
Dallas sits up straighter, “Harvey.”
Harvey snaps to attention, “What?”
“This video was spliced,” he glances up at Harvey from the screen.
Harvey raises a brow, a deep frown forming on his face. “How do you know?”
“What is a splice?” Aria asks the question on the tip of my tongue.
Dallas answers both questions, “A splice is when a video is cut and edited. Someone can cut footage in half and then cut it again and delete that part. It’s like a ribbon. You have a long string of ribbon, you cut it in the middle and then cut that new piece again. You throw that middle piece out and tie two sliced ends together to make a new, single ribbon. I slowed the clip down three times and you can see where it splices.”
Harvey rounds the desk and watches the clip in question. We’re all hovering over Dallas trying to pinpoint this “splice,” but I have no idea what I’m looking at. He’s the tech genius in this relationship, not me. Harvey’s face pales as he assesses the tape, most likely catching the splice. “Fuck.”
Selene’s voice is low, unconfident, and afraid, “If someone spliced the video, that means that someone had to have hacked into the cameras and deleted the footage of Brody. Someone doesn’t want us, or more specificallyyou,” she says as she glances between Harvey and Dallas, “To know where she is.”
The absolute calamity that appears on Harvey’s face has my heart shattering on his behalf. Someone took his fiancé and went through the trouble of covering it up.
“Who would do something like this?” Aria asks, completely ata loss.
I shrug, “The only person I could think of is that guy who broke into her hotel room.”
