Chapter 204 Missing

Chapter 204 Missing
The neighbour’s words didn’t register at first.
Piper stood frozen in the doorway, her hand still resting against Cecil’s apartment door as though she’d forgotten why she was there in the first place. For a few long seconds, she simply stared into the quiet apartment, waiting for the sentence to make sense.
It didn’t.
The older woman shifted uneasily in the hallway.
“She left yesterday morning,” she repeated, her voice softer this time after noticing the expressions on their faces. “It was early. She looked like she was heading to class.”
Ember blinked.
Then blinked again.
“…And she never came back?”
The neighbour shook her head.
“Not that I saw.”
Piper slowly lowered her hand from the door.
Her thoughts refused to line up.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she murmured, almost to herself.
The words sounded hollow.
She immediately reached for her phone again, opening the message thread with Cecil.
Nothing.
No reply.
Not even a read receipt.
“She hasn’t answered any of my messages,” Piper said quickly, as though saying it aloud might somehow make it less alarming. “She could’ve stayed with someone. Maybe her phone died. Maybe…”
“It means she’s missing.” Ember’s voice was unusually quiet. There was no sarcasm or teasing.
Just a simple statement that landed like a stone between them.
Piper looked back into the apartment that wasn't locked with a key.
Surely Cecil would walk through the door any second, apologising for worrying everyone.
She imagined hearing footsteps.
A familiar voice.
An explanation.
Instead…
Silence.
The apartment remained exactly as they’d found it.
The neighbour lingered by her own doorway before speaking again.
“She was the quiet girl, wasn’t she?”
Piper nodded.
“She mostly kept to herself. Polite, though.” The woman frowned thoughtfully. “I assumed she’d gone home for a few days.”
Ember let out a slow breath.
“No.”
The answer came automatically. Cecil didn't have a home to go to.
Piper looked at her, expecting another sharp comment.
None came.
Ember wasn’t looking at the neighbour anymore.
She was staring into Cecil’s apartment, her expression tighter than Piper had ever seen it.

“She would’ve said something,” Piper whispered.
She wasn’t sure whether she was speaking to Ember, the neighbour, or herself.
Ember finally answered.
“If she could.”
Piper’s chest tightened.
The words lingered between them.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
The neighbour quietly excused herself, sensing there was nothing more she could offer, and disappeared back into her apartment.
The hallway fell silent again.
“When did you last see her?” Ember asked after a long pause.
Piper searched her memory.
“She hugged me outside the café.”
“The day she dropped the journal?”
Piper nodded slowly.
“Yesterday.”
Ember looked away.
Neither of them spoke again.
For the first time since finding Irene’s journal, Piper felt something colder than curiosity settle into the pit of her stomach.
Fear.
It was loud and it simply refused to leave.
Piper wandered farther into the apartment without realising she was doing it.
Ember followed close behind, the usual commentary she’d fill a room with nowhere to be found. Instead, her eyes moved from one corner of the apartment to the next, taking in every detail as if something obvious had been left behind for them to find.
The silence settled over the room.
It wasn’t messy.
That was the strange part.
Nothing had been knocked over. No drawers hung open. No broken glass littered the floor. The apartment didn’t look like anyone had searched it or struggled inside it.
It looked… lived in.
Like someone had left for class expecting to come home a few hours later.
Piper drifted toward the desk.
A ceramic mug sat near the edge, half-full of coffee that had long gone cold. Beside it rested an open notebook with a pen laid neatly across the page, as though Cecil had stopped in the middle of studying and intended to pick it up again that evening.
Her gaze swept slowly across the room.
Books remained stacked exactly where she’d left them.
A sweater hung over the back of a chair.
Nothing felt abandoned.
Everything felt paused.
“If she left for class,” Ember said quietly, breaking the silence, “why does it look like she expected to come back?”
Piper didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
The question had already been running through her own mind.
She walked into the small bedroom.
The bed had been made.
Clothes still hung neatly inside the wardrobe, and a pair of shoes rested beneath the bed. Nothing suggested someone had packed in a hurry or planned to leave town.
“She would’ve said goodbye,” Piper murmured.
Ember leaned against the bedroom doorway.
“Would she?”
Piper looked at her.
“Yes.”
The answer came automatically.
Then doubt crept in.
She wasn’t as certain as she’d sounded.
Ember studied the room for another moment before speaking.
“This is exactly why I don’t like her.”
Piper looked up.
“Ember—”
“I’m not blaming her,” Ember interrupted before Piper could continue. “I’m saying she disappears even when she’s standing right in front of people. Half the time nobody knows what she’s thinking.”
“That doesn’t mean she’d vanish without telling anyone.”
“No.”
Ember sighed.
“It doesn’t.”
Piper reached for her phone again.
No missed calls.
No new messages.
No reply.
She tried calling.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Voicemail.
Piper lowered the phone slowly. “She still isn’t answering.”
Ember watched her for a long moment before speaking again. “We should call someone.”
Piper frowned.
“Who?”
“Campus security. Her landlord. Somebody.”
“Not yet.”
Ember’s eyebrows lifted. “Not yet? I thought you'd jump on the idea.”
Piper rubbed a hand across her forehead.
“If we make this a bigger deal too quickly and she turns up in an hour, we’ll look ridiculous.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Piper opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Ember finished the thought for her. “Then every minute we’re standing here is another minute we’re behind.”
Neither of them spoke after that.
The silence hanging over the apartment felt heavier than before.
Piper finally turned toward the front door.
Without another word, Ember followed.
Neither of them spoke as the apartment door clicked shut behind them.
The sound echoed through the hallway.
For a long moment, they simply stood there.
Piper stared at the closed door as though she expected it to open at any second.
It didn’t.
Ember folded her arms tightly across her chest.
“This doesn’t feel right.”
“No,” Piper admitted quietly. “It doesn’t.”
Another heavy silence settled between them.
Ember looked down the hallway before looking back at Piper.
“We should go.”
Piper nodded, but her feet refused to move.
No sign that Cecil had existed anywhere beyond the memories they’d been clinging to all morning.
Finally, Piper forced herself to turn away.
Ember fell into step beside her.
They had barely taken a few steps down the corridor when Piper stopped so suddenly Ember almost walked into her.
“What?”
Piper didn’t answer.
She was staring back at Cecil’s apartment.
Listening.
Ember frowned.
“Piper…”
Then,  A sound so faint it could almost have been imagined. Like someone had shut the door.
Both of them froze.
Piper’s breath caught.
Ember slowly turned toward the door.
The hallway seemed to fall unnaturally silent.
“…There’s someone inside,” Ember whispered.