Nora~~

Why has Radia's number been disconnected?

Please call me.

I stepped away from my phone to shower. When I got out, I found one missed call, a voicemail, and two texts from Ryann.

Tye and I put up flyers two days ago. No one's contacted us about them.

Gathering my willpower, I call Ryann's number and break the news to him.

"Where are you?" he asks after I finish telling him what's happened.

"Tye's apartment."

"It's the same building as Radia's?"

"Yes. Tye doesn't want me living alone so he offered to let me stay with him."

"Text me his apartment number, and I'll be over in an hour."

"You don't have to—"

"You need friends, Nora. I want to help."

And because his words remind me of Radia's, I let him.

He arrives with his arms full of groceries in reusable bags. "I thought these might help." He holds up the bags.

I wipe away tears before they can fall and help him set them on the counter.

As we put the groceries away, he asks for details about what happened. I give them to him but don't tell him that I was taken before her. I don't tell him about the note. I tell him what he needs to know as a friend. And when it comes to me and Tye, I tell him that we quit our jobs and don't say anything about Charlie.

Ryann grabs some cans from the bottom of one of the bags. "You could work for me. My business is growing and could use the help. You'll meet people you wouldn't otherwise. Maybe even find out about Radia."

"You don't have to pity me." I put a jug of milk in the fridge.

"I mean it. Radia was my friend." Was. He's already relegated her to the past. He folds up his bags. "You meant a lot to her. She talked about you every time I saw her."

She was always concerned about me having people I could trust, and something in that footage of her gave me the feeling she knew they were coming for her. If she did, how long had she known? Before she left us in the conference room the last time? Would she have said goodbye if she had?

"All right. Thank you." I smile. "Really."

The bags folded, he stacks them. "Just let me know whenever you want to work, and I'll show you the ropes."

*****

A week into working for Ryann and a little over a week since Radia was taken, I find myself sitting on a barstool in his kitchen, sipping from a glass of water while he counts out my earnings for the day.

I just delivered my last order for the day before heading to his townhouse to give him the breakdown of my orders. His townhouse is located on the same subway line that goes to my home but on the opposite end of the tracks.

I didn't think I could enjoy working—not with Radia being gone, but I feel satisfied at the end of each day I work. I'm doing something even if it's turned up no clues about Radia.

Yet.

I can't lose hope.

Tye hasn't lost hope as much as he's just given up. With each day, he seems to lean more toward the possibility that Radia ran off on her own accord. I have to remind him of the security footage of her being dragged away against her will to get him back on my side.

It's these daily reminders that keep him from getting a full-time job and—I worry—turning against her for believing she abandoned him.

Ryann hands me the money I earned. "I'm going to a party tonight. It's nothing big, but would you want to come? Some of the people going are kind of . . . erm . . . eclectic. They might know something that could point us to Radia."

It's not as if anything else I could do tonight would be half as productive as going to a party where most likely no one can help me. Yet somehow this is my best option.

So although the idea of going to a party has zero appeal, I have to take whatever opportunities arise to find someone—anyone who knows where Radia is or even how to find Somnia's gate. "I'd love to."

*****

I follow Ryann down the stairs into a basement of a townhouse a few blocks from his.

The overhead lights are shut off, replaced with string lighting and a few pink lights that are propped around the room. The basement is crowded between the assortment of sweaty bodies and mismatched furniture. Music plays too loudly, but not loud enough I won't be used to it in a few minutes.

Telling me to wait here, Ryann pushes off into the crowd and returns with a young man with dirty blonde hair. Ryann introduces him to me as his friend and owner of the house.

His friend tells me I can find drinks against the back wall and says he has to go take care of his friend before she breaks his sound system.

Almost immediately, two women come out of the crowd, drinks in hand and a hazy look on their faces.

The taller one, her hair thin and straight grabs Ryann by the arm. "Do you have res?"

I take a few steps back when they aren't paying attention. This conversation isn't for me.

Ryann slides his hands into his front pockets. "How much do you want?"

The other woman stays tucked behind her friend. "What are you asking?"

Ryann leans closer toward them, his mouth moving, the music drowning out his words before they reach me.

"Two each," the taller woman says.

From his pocket Ryann pulls out a clear plastic bag filled with what looks like pearls.

Uncomfortable, I tap him on the shoulder and tell him I'm grabbing a drink.

In the corner of the room are two beige couches where five people are playing a racing game on the TV.

I fill up a clear cup with rum and soda, adding enough ice to counter the warm cola, and drift toward the couches, taking small sips of my drink.

At the end of one of the couches is a girl with auburn hair pulled back in a messy bun and freckles dotting her face and chest. In her hand is a beer and not a controller.

She notices me watching and scoots over, taking a pull from the bottle.

A bit hesitant, I sit down beside her.

"Avery," she says. "You ever played this game?" She inclines her head to the screen.

I study the game, the racers sliding off the track. "I've never played any video games." But there is something familiar in the way the players tilt their controllers, click the buttons.

The race ends, and the man beside Avery turns toward us. He's probably in his thirties, and his eyes are filled with mirth either from the race or the alcohol. His black hair is cut short to his head, but lightly curled. His skin has a natural bronze color to it.

"I'm Ricardo."

"But you can call him Ricky," Avery says. "Now is when you tell us yours."

Ricky gives her a shove with his elbow, and she laughs.

"Nora. I came with Ryann."

Avery shifts in her seat, and Ricky says, "Ever tried the stuff he sells?"

"No."

"Don't. That stuff will mess with you." He passes the controller over Avery and to me. "You want to try?"

I take the controller without pausing to remind myself I have no clue what I'm doing.

Ricky explains the controls, and the next game begins.

My wrists tilt the controller whenever my car needs to go around a curve. I keep on the track, and I rack up speed boosts quickly to fill the gauge on my portion of the screen and use the boosts to race past the other players.

"What does this thing he sells do?" I fire up my car's thrusters for a second time.

Avery gives me a side eye, resting her beer between her knees. "You're sure you've never played?" It's clear she doesn't want to talk about res, but she and Ricky still seem like they could be good people to know. I'm not sure if I should push them too hard to tell me about the res. I can always confront Ryann about it.

"I haven't." My car crosses the finish line, coming in second place.

"She's lying," Ricky says, and I pass the controller back to him.

"I don't know what to tell you." I laugh. "How do you two know each other?" After grabbing my drink from the floor, I angle myself toward them.

"Heard of the Lion's Den club?" Avery snatches the controller from Ricky as the race is in its five second countdown and hands him her beer.

"I've walked past it."

"He owns it." She tilts her head toward Ricky as she tilts the controller and clicks its buttons. "He tried to stop me from drinking one night, and I poured my drink on him."

"We've been friends ever since." Ricky takes a swig of Avery's beer.

I spend the rest of the party playing video games.

*****

Ryann says he'll ride the subway back with me to Tye's apartment even though it's significantly out of his way.

"Did you have fun?" he asks as we walk down into the station.

I tell him I did and about meeting Avery and Ricky. There's no recognition in his face when he hears their names like there was in theirs.

I bite the bullet. "What's res?"

The station is nearly empty, and the sound of our train approaching shields my voice from anyone but him.

The train doors open, and we step into an empty car before he speaks. "It's not for everyone." He scratches his neck as the train rattles as it speeds toward the next station. "But it helps the few who need it."

"What does it do?"

"It's not for me, so I've never tried it. But it helps people temporarily forget."

The train jerks as it comes to a stop. I let go of the pole and slip into a seat. "Forget what?"

"It's different for each user I'm told."

"But it helps people?"

"I wouldn't let people take it if it didn't."

"How do you know who it's for?"

He takes a seat across from me, his body swaying with the movement of the train. "Usually they tell me they need it, but in other cases I offer it if there's something off about the way they talk, the way they view their surroundings."

My heart speeds up as if it's trying to beat the train. "What do you mean?" I ask. He might as well have said my name.

The train slows, coming to its next stop.

He rubs at his jaw as if picking his next words carefully. "They don't fit in our world."

*****

Tye isn't home when I reach his apartment. I imagine he's at a bar, forgetting Radia, with friends he made before I showed up in Somnia.

That weight from the night Radia was taken settles over me again as I walk through his apartment to change. I set the lights on a dim setting and slip into comfier clothes.

I grab a blanket from the hall closet, my eyes only half open.

Tiredness. That's the word for it.

I stumble over to Tye's couch and lie down. The movement takes some of the pressure off my body. I don't know how to satisfy this need.

I can't be drunk.

Though I have no memory of what that would feel like.

The last time I felt this way, Tye found me unresponsive. I should fight the pull, the chains keeping me in this position.

But I don't have the desire to.

Not when this couch feels like an embrace, and I'm so, so tired.

Tired.

What would Ryann think of my new word?

I'm so excited that Avery and Ricky have been reintroduced! What do you think of this res?