repair.
But even if that’s the case, I’ll stand by her side until the end.
Even if she pushes me away.
Even if she calls me names.
Even if she fucking hates me.
“Now, that’s the problem.” The detective shares a look with his colleague, then focuses back on me. “Miss Naomi Chester was never reported missing.”
“What?”
He flips through his notepad. “Her mother, Ms. Riko Chester, never reported her missing.”
That can’t be possible considering how protective she is of her daughter. “She could’ve been looking for her on her own, or maybe she’s been in contact with Naomi’s father.”
“That isn’t the case, Mr. Weaver. Ms. Riko confirmed to the police that she was getting ready to go on a trip with her daughter. They left yesterday.”
“They couldn’t have. Naomi was with me the whole fucking time.”
“They did, though. A day after you were dropped off at the emergency room.”
I stare between him and my grandmother as if that will somehow help me make sense of his words. Mrs. Weaver’s lips twist in disapproval, probably because I insisted on talking to the police and kept asking about Naomi’s safety.
She still doesn’t like me involved with her, but fuck her opinion.
Fuck anyone who thinks that I can’t be with Naomi.
“You must’ve gotten the wrong person, detective,” I grind out through my teeth, which puts a strain on my wound.
“No. We did, in fact, talk to Ms. Naomi Chester before she and her mother left for the airport. She said she hadn’t seen you since the day you disappeared.”
The airport.
Naomi lied to the police and then left the country?
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“That can’t be true,” I murmur more to myself than anyone else.
“It is,” Grandma says in her haughty tone. “I personally paid that seamstress a visit as soon as you disappeared and she said that you hadn’t shown up at her house for a long time.”
“But did you see Naomi?” I ask.
“No, but I didn’t have to. She was in her room.”
“No, she wasn’t. She was with me,” I tell the detectives.
“The doctor said that your facts could be hazy due to the infection you suffered.”
“I’m not making things up. She was there and fucking took care of me.”
Detective Wyatt nods with feigned understanding and I want to reach out and strangle him. I want him to go out there and search for her, find her and have them tell me where I can talk to her.
But it’s useless.
Judging from the way everyone is watching me, they definitely think I’m hallucinating.
The detective tells my grandfather that he will keep us updated about their findings, but I already know there will be none.
Those guys were professionals and fooled the police into thinking that Naomi wasn’t even abducted.
The only trace they left behind is me and my memories that automatically became faulty due to my fever.
It was all calculated.
But they don’t know me. Or my Naomi.
No matter what they do, there’s no way in fuck they can separate us.
My grandfather walks out with the police. As soon as they leave, Grandma fixes me with a glare. “Stop making us look like fools. It’s enough that you’ve gotten yourself in trouble, don’t start acting like an idiot now.”
“She was there,” I say point-blank.
“I don’t care. The only thing that matters now is that she’s gone and stopped muddying your logic. This isn’t the Sebastian I raised.”
“The Sebastian you raised is a mere image, Grandma. He was never real.”
“Even better. That’s the only Sebastian that should be shown in public. The seamstress’s daughter isn’t on your level, do you understand?”
I say nothing, because if I do, I’ll be screaming like a lunatic.
Wanting to get rid of her, I pretend to be sleepy. Soon after, she leaves, because Grandma isn’t the type who stays around and takes care of a patient. She pays people to do that.
Now that she’s made sure her precious heir won’t die, she’ll just move on as if nothing happened.
Stifling a groan of pain, I reach for my phone on the edge of the table. Nate brought it over earlier before he headed out to attend to one of his cases.
I turn on the Wi-Fi and a thousand pings accumulate all at once. Messages from Owen, Asher, and even Reina. Other friends. Other people.
Just when I’m about to clear all the notifications, I notice something.
Someone.
A message from Naomi and it’s a day old.
Straightening, I ignore the pain as I click on it faster than anything I’ve done in my entire life.
Naomi: I’m fine. I