Page 18 of Ren: Warlord Brides
In her room, Emry trawled through Gemma’s social media for any updates or clues as to what her sister had been doing before she disappeared.
Chapter 4
Emry
Emry took a breath, clutching the tablet to her chest. Pashaal was reasonable, but most importantly, she enjoyed tooting her own horn. Give her a chance to be a hero, or look like a hero, and she’d grab it.
Two days ago, Emry received another anonymous message. No audio and no video, but she knew it was Gemma. Sheknewit. Call it a creepy twin thing, but she knew Gemma was in trouble. Calls to Earth had been pointless so far. The police weren’t interested in a grown-ass woman vanishing from her own life, and their mutual friends seemed to think it was a “Gemma thing” to pick up and leave without a word.
Emry felt so helpless and frustrated. She kept screaming that Gemma was in trouble, and no one cared. How could no one care? Emry readily acknowledged that she wasn’t an easy person to get along with, but Gemma was personable. She had friends and a social life.
“Find the girl. Be a hero. You have to do this,” Emry told herself. There was no alternative.
Emry knocked on the office door.
“Come! Ah, Emmarae,” Pashaal said. She removed her tech specs and set them down on the desk. Her office was a sumptuous retreat of rich leathers, hard wood furnishings, and sound-dampening fabric. The carpet was thick enough to absorb the constant hum of the ship’s engines. If it weren’t for the enormous window that looked out onto a field of stars, Emry wouldn’t know they were on a starship at all.
“I wanted to discuss the menu. This is a short voyage, but my guest is very particular. Allergies. How disappointing.” Pashaal’s tone sounded mournful, like a food allergy was the worst thing she could imagine.
“Send me a list and I’ll make sure there’s no cross-contamination,” Emry said.
“Excellent, excellent. I see the invoice from the supply depot. I am intrigued by the spices. That is all,” Pashaal said, dismissing her.
Emry hesitated in the doorway. She had to ask, if only to say she tried everything. Gemma would do it for her. She’d swoop in, riding fiery dragons, bringing hellfire and a reckoning to those who wrong her twin.
Emry would have done the same, but having so many doors slammed in her face had worn her down.
How many burdens could a person carry before they break from the strain? Emry had a feeling she was about to find out.
Pashaal noticed Emry lingering in the door. “Yes? Is there something else?”
“It’s my sister. My twin, Gemma. I’m worried. She’s gone missing. No one has seen her, and the authorities on Earth don’t seem to think it’s weird for someone to walk away from their life.” The story spilled out of her, the last message from Gemma, the empty messages that had to be from Gemma, and the way the police on Earth kept ignoring her calls.
“But surely you walked away from your old life when you came to work for me,” Pashaal said.
“That’s different. We have a contract, and people knew I was leaving.”
After signing a two-year contract with Pashaal, Emry took two weeks to pack up her apartment for storage, leave her houseplants to Gemma’s care, hire a replacement for the bakery, and tie up financial stuff. She may have left Earth, but she didn’t vanish. The bank had her contact info, and her ID chip hadn’t changed.
“My dear, Earth is quite the frontier. The network connections are shockingly primitive. I’m sure people go missing all the time with network outages. They’re perfectly safe but in some pocket or gap that the network doesn’t reach.” Pashaal left her desk and floated across the room. Silken robes whispered as they brushed along the plush carpeting.
“This isn’t a malfunctioning chip. We live in a major city, not the middle of nowhere,” Emry said. “And none of her friends have seen her for weeks.”
Pashaal patted Emry’s hand. “Perhaps she took another position on a star cruise. She will turn up. Do not worry.”
“Couldn’t you make inquiries?” Was that the correct word? Emry struggled to avoid sounding like a character stuck in a melodrama. “A call from a Council member’s office will get more attention than a call from a nobody.”
“You are not a nobody,” Pashaal said.
“They take messages and never return my call. If I actually catch them, they hang up on me.” If she were there in person, haunting the police department’s front desk, hounding detectives, they wouldn’t have been able to ignore her. But ignoring her from Sangrin was all too easy. Emry added, “They wouldn’t do that toyou.”
“No, I suppose not.” Pashaal folded her hands on her lap in a pose that Emry recognized as thebad newspose. “And that is precisely the problem. There’s no way for my office to be involved without it looking like I’m abusing the power of my office. I cannot risk that kind of scrutiny with Dovak sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“To find a missing person! That’s precisely how you should abuse your office.” That came out louder than Emry intended. She gave a nervous cough and blushed. “Sorry about that. Gemma is the most important person in the world to me.”
“Understandably, your emotions are running high. That kind of loyalty is admirable.”
As the silence stretched out between them, Emry understood that while Pashaal might admire her loyalty to her sister, Pashaal would not risk endangering her reputation.
