After hanging up with Ama, my exhaustion begins to overtake me. I close my eyes, and they immediately pop back open. Did I tell Ama I loved her? Shit! Do I call her back? What if she's not ready to hear that from me? Do I love her?

My mind is now overthinking what my tired mind just blurted out. But I do know that I love Ama. I've known I loved her for weeks, but I didn't feel the time was right to express my feelings when Trai was going through everything.

Then my mind takes a turn; what if someone was watching Ama? No one is there to protect her, to keep her safe, or to keep those up to no good from hurting her.

I need to get to Ama as quickly as possible. My priority is calling the airport and changing my flight to the first one leaving. I leave on the earliest flight at 7:10 this morning, so I have to get to the airport by 5:00. I set my alarm for 4:00 a.m. and try to get a few hours of sleep. All I do is toss and turn, so by 3:00 a.m., I'm up and showered and ready to go.

I want to call Ama but don't want to wake her. I use every bit of self-control to keep myself from dialing her number. Instead, I text her.

Hey, Ama. I hope you're sleeping well. I decided to take an early flight to arrive by 11:00 a.m. Love you.

I look at the words "Love you," smile, and hit send.

Arriving on time and checking my phone to ensure Ama got my text does nothing for my nerves to see that she never read or responded to it.

She should be at work by now, so I contemplate whether to stop there before heading home or not. I stop because she'll be on her lunch break when I arrive.

Pulling up to the hotel, I smile because every time I see this beautiful place, it reminds me of meeting Ama.

I hop out of the car and run into the hotel just in time to see Trai ready to enter the employee lounge.

"Trai!" I call out, and she turns to see me.

Smiling, she walks over to greet me. "Hey, Gregory. What are you doing here? I thought your flight didn't arrive till later today."

Not to alarm her about my true feelings about why I'm here, I say, " I couldn't sleep, so I caught an earlier flight."

She rolls her eyes. "I bet I know what kept you up; you couldn't wait to see Ama, but why are you here at the hotel?"

My brows come together in confusion. "What do you mean? Why am I at the hotel? Isn't Ama here working?"

Now, it's Trai's face that looks confused. "She never came into work today. I thought she might have taken the day off to get the house in order and see you when you got home."

My face brightens, "Did she tell you that?"

Trai shakes her head. "No, I assumed that was why she didn't show up for work today. Our boss, Kelly, approached me and told me that Ama didn't call off; I told Kelly what I just told you, and we figured that she was too excited to see you and forgot to call."

It takes a moment for both of us to realize something is seriously wrong.

"Did she tell you that she felt that someone was watching her last night? I told her I felt nothing, so she chalked it up to her imagination. What if she was right, and I left her alone?" she asks, her eyes round in fear.

"Trai, I didn't want to say anything, but after I hung up with her, I got a strange feeling that something wasn't right, and that's why I took an earlier flight."

We didn't waste another minute; we took off running down the beach to get to the house as quickly as possible.

When we arrive, the back door is wide open. Trai and I look at each other, eyes wide, realizing that something has happened to Ama.

Running up two stairs at a time with Trai hot on my heels, stopping dead at the door, Trai runs right into my back. My mouth drops open, and tears fill my eyes.

I call out, "Ama!" while entering and avoiding disturbing the evidence.

I look everywhere for her but see nothing but broken glass; our pictures lay in pieces on the floor, the shelves are broken, and the planter is lying on the floor with dirt scattered across it. Traces of blood are everywhere in the sitting room. The bedroom and kitchen look untouched.

"Call the police," are the only words I could get out of my throat as it swells up with panic.

Turning, I see Trai standing there in shock. "Trai!" I scream to get her attention. "Call the fucking police!"

She shakes off her shock, takes my phone, and, with her hands trembling, she calls the police. I'm too focused on the chaos before me and the thought of Ama in trouble to hear what Trai is saying.

It's not long before I hear sirens coming closer and closer. Trai and I are standing on the front porch, awaiting their arrival.

Once the police exit their vehicles, they approach Trai and me. Opening the door without saying a word, I let the police quietly enter after asking us to remain on the front porch.

Several moments later, one of the officers returns to speak to Trai and me. Telling him everything about last night until we arrived and found the house in disarray did not take long.

"Did she have any enemies, anyone who threatened her?" the officer asks.

Trai and I look at each other and shake our heads no.

"Officer, Ama is one of the sweetest girls I know. No one ever has anything bad to say about her. They all love her," Trai says with tears streaming down her face.

"How about either of you? Is there anyone who would want to hurt her from those in your circle of acquaintances?"

Trai's head drops as she whispers, "Yes."

I know she's talking about Tom; a horrendous thought enters my mind. "Stella," I mumble.

Trai's head snaps in my direction. "Stella? Your ex-fiance?"

I nod.

"Okay," he says. "One at a time. Who's this Tom guy?"

His attention is on Trai as she recounts the nightmare she experienced at the hands of asshole Tom.

"Did you report this attack?" he questions.

Again, Trai's eyes drop to the ground. "No, I just wanted to forget the entire thing."

He nods understandingly but says, "You should have reported this man as soon as it happened. We could have done something about it. Now, he's probably gone from the island. We'll check around, just in case."

He then turns to me. "Tell me about Stella."

I give him the entire embarrassing story. He never interrupts; he just diligently writes things down.

By now, more vehicles have arrived, bringing crime scene investigators, and a detective who spends several minutes with the two policemen then comes to us for Trai and me to retell everything we just told the officer before he enters the house to do his investigation.

The officer returns to us. "Is there somewhere you can stay and a number at which we can contact you since your home is a crime scene?"

Hearing the word crime scene creates a lump in my throat so big that I can barely breathe.

Seeing me struggle, Trai answers him, "I'll take him back to the hotel and ensure he gets a room."

She writes our cell phone numbers on his notepad before taking my hand and leading me away from the home I share with Ama.

I stop abruptly. "I can't leave. What if Ama comes back? I need to be here for her. She needs to know that I'm here."

"Gregory, there's nothing more we can do here; the police will contact us with any updates. You need rest to be strong for Ama."

"How are you so calm right now?" I ask, my eyes darting across her smooth features.

"Trust me, I'm out of my mind with worry, but it will not do anything to help Ama. Letting the police do their job is what Ama needs right now."

We begin to walk again.

"Plus," she says, "we have our investigation. I plan on making sure that Tom got the hell off this island, and you need to check to see what your crazy ass ex has been up to."

She's right. With renewed strength, Trai and I return to the hotel.

Ironically, they gave me the same room I had the pleasure of meeting and starting my life with Ama, which makes me feel close to her.

Once my bags get to my room, I shower, change into gym shorts and a tee shirt, then get busy with my investigation.

Sitting on the bed and making a list of anyone close to Stella who might know where she is keeps me busy till a knock on my door interrupts my thoughts.

Opening the door, I see Trai on the other side with a look of determination on her face.

"Kelly gave me the rest of the afternoon off," she says as she brushes by me and sits at the table on the porch. I grab the pad of paper and follow her.

"Do you have any idea where to start?" I ask, taking the seat next to her.

"I do," she says as she motions for me to give her a piece of paper and my pen.

She begins to jot down her notes, and I get up and return to the room to get a pen out of my briefcase before I dial the first number.

An hour later, Trai walks in and lets me know that Tom checked out of his hotel room the day after I punched him unconscious.

I raise my brows and ask her, "How did you find that information when you didn't know Tom's last name?"

"Well, I did know where he was staying and the rental car company he rented from. It was on the dashboard of his car. At least I had sense enough to notice it. I know people who work in both places, and they gave me his last name and the date he checked out of the hotel. The hotel also had his flight information, which told me that he left the island the day after you confronted him."

I stare in disbelief at how resourceful Trai is.

"I was able to call Stella's parents, best friend, brother, and boss. Every one of them said that they hadn't heard or spoken to Stella for days.

My next call was to the airport to check flights from Chicago to Jamaica for the past couple of days. They didn't want to inform me about her flight until I lied and told them I was her husband. I felt sick to my stomach hearing those words from my mouth. Knowing her personal information got me precisely what I needed to know."

I look at Trai's expectant face.

"Stella is in Jamaica."

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