Me: Hey, Abby. I just got to your office. I thought you said it was ready.
It only takes ten seconds before I get her response.
Abby: The contractors haven’t worked on the outside yet. Come on in, though. The door’s unlocked. I’m in the storage room organizing some boxes.
Before going in, I text Logan to let him know I made it to Abby’s office and I would let him know when I was done. I’m tempted to ask him if he’s had the chance to talk to Natalie yet, but when I look at the time, I realize he probably hasn’t gotten there yet. He left after me.
My nerves settle at the pit of my stomach, churning themselves into a heavy ball. I didn’t know what to make of Abby and I’s friendship or where we would go from here. No doubt me bringing up her lie about Max would trigger her. I pictured her yelling, accusing me of being a bad friend for taking Max’s account seriously. I left room for her to explain, hoping she wouldn’t bring up the possibility of being with Julian. Our relationship had spun into a web of secrets and lies. A life I no longer wanted to be a part of. I’d learned the first time around with the secrets I’d kept from Logan.
The metal handle to the front door is cold on the damp skin of my palm. I wrap my fingers around it and pull it open. My stomach is still flipped upside down. For some reason, this whole situation feels off. I poke my head through and tentatively step inside.
“Abby?” I call out. I don’t see her. The space is completely dark. The coming thunderstorm has prevented any sunlight from being able to pour in. Even on a sunny day, you could hardly see through the thick dust covering the front windows.
I step farther into the darkness. The floor is no longer covered in old travel brochures, but two desks remain. The wooden chair Abby had sat in the first time she brought me here, is still sitting behind one of the desks.
I cover my nose with one finger, the smell of spoiled milk floating in the air. “Abby?” I call out for her again. I step closer to the desk, following the smell. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness. Lines and shapes are becoming more defined. On top of the desk is a flattened brown paper bag, a moldy donut resting on top.
Several flies are on top of the donut and when I wave my hand to move them out of the way, I jump backward, a sharp noise climbing out of my throat. The donut is covered in cookie crumbs, a circle of bare frosting along the edge. It’s the same donut Abby had gotten me the second time I’d come to visit her here.
I cover my mouth, my hot breaths blowing against my skin. I’m slowly walking backward, unable to take my eyes off the moldy donut.
I need to get out of here. Something isn’t right. Chills creep along my spine. It feels as if someone has dropped a piece of ice down my back. I turn around, ready to run out the door when I see Abby standing behind me.
I stare at her with widened eyes and breathe in a sharp breath. “Abby.”
Her violet eyes transform to a deep shade of black. She grins, her purple lips thinning. “Hey, Lena. Sorry I’m late.”
I open my mouth to speak but stop when her hand reaches up. Abby’s face is the last thing I see before I feel a sharp, jolting pain hit the side of my head and then everything fades to black.
Twenty-Seven
Logan
Once I get to the restaurant, I head straight for the kitchen. I knew Max had scheduled all of us together for the lunch rush. Our reservations were completely booked and one of our chefs was out with a cold.
I scan the kitchen for Natalie but don’t find her. When I try my office, I find Max sitting at his desk.
He spins around when he hears me enter the office.
“Hey, Logan.”
“Hey.” I breathe out. “Have you seen Natalie? I thought she was working the lunch rush with me.”
“Oh, shit.” He sighs, picking up his phone. “I forgot to tell you.”
“What is it?” I walk farther into the office and lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest.
“ She didn’t show up for her shift yesterday then I got this email today. It’s her resignation.”
“What?” I push off the wall and unravel my arms. My chest hollows. Natalie would never suddenly quit her job at Bistro. If she did, there had to be good reason for doing so. Over the past few months, Natalie has shared her story with me. If she had truly quit, she would have come to me or Max first. I point to Max’s phone. “Do you mind if I see the email?”
“Sure.” He shrugs, handing it to me.
A weight falls on my shoulders, draping over me.
Max,
I regret to inform you that I am submitting my resignation from Bistro 59. It has been a pleasure working for you. I have decided to pursue another career path and return home to California.
Thank you for everything you have taught me and for giving me this opportunity.
Sincerely,
Natalie
My throat constricts when my eyes scan the email before landing on the email address. It’s from the same address that was emailing Lena. How was that possible? Was Natalie the person sending Lena those emails, and not Julian? But how did Natalie know all those pieces of Lena’s story?
Panicked, I look up at Max. His eyebrows are dipped in concern. He can clearly see something isn’t sitting well with me. The blood drains from my face. “When did she send this to you?”
“This morning.. Why?”
“Is this the email address you have on file for Natalie?”
“Hang on.” Max spins in
