Marcus’s POV
The air was sticky, carrying that late-summer heat that seemed to press down on you, making everything feel heavier than it was. I gripped the wheel, my palms sweating slightly as I turned onto Betty’s street. The little houses lined up like they belonged in a postcard—quaint, picturesque, and completely unlike the chaos of the city.
My heart thrummed as I pulled up in front of her house, the one Stacey had given me the address for. It looked quiet. Too quiet. No lights on, no sign of life.
“She’s probably out,” I muttered, trying to keep the unease from creeping into my voice. I stepped out of the car, clutching the bouquet and the stuffed toy.
The porch creaked under my weight as I climbed the steps, knocking on the door.
Nothing.
I knocked again, louder this time, but the silence stretched.
“Betty?” I called, leaning toward the door as if I could will her to be inside.
When there was still no response, I pulled out my phone, dialing Stacey.
It rang twice before her voice came through, slightly groggy. “What?”
“She’s not here,” I said without preamble. “Betty’s not at home.”
Stacey yawned audibly on the other end. “She’s probably at the store or something. Did you think she’d be waiting by the door with a welcome banner?”
I frowned. “I didn’t expect that, but... something feels off. Do you know where she could be?”
There was a pause, the line crackling faintly in the quiet.
“She’s probably with...,” Stacey started, but then she trailed off, her voice suddenly hesitant.
“With who?” I pressed, my grip tightening on the bouquet.
“No one,” she said quickly. “I mean... maybe Brent. They’re best friends, remember? It’s her hometown, and he’s around. It’s not a big deal.”
Something twisted in my chest, but I pushed it down. “Best friends. Right.”
There was another pause, longer this time. “Marcus,” Stacey said cautiously, “maybe you should just... wait to see her tomorrow. She might be busy.”
“I came all this way,” I said firmly. “Just give me his address.”
“Marcus, don’t—”
“Stace,” I interrupted, “please.”
She sighed heavily, and for a moment, I thought she was going to refuse. But then she rattled off an address, her voice clipped and reluctant.
“Thanks,” I said, already heading back to the car.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she muttered before hanging up.