"Olly, please come out now. I'm starting to get worried," she pleaded, her voice trembling with concern. She had called for her sister repeatedly, but there was no response. Fear began to creep into her heart. Ever since that terrifying incident in the past, she had developed an aversion to this particular game. However, today, her sister was determined to play it, and she reluctantly agreed to join in.

As she waited, minutes felt like hours, and anxiety continued to gnaw at her. Then, the situation took a sudden and terrifying turn.

"Olly, baby, come out. See what daddy has brought," her father's deep voice resounded from downstairs in the corridor, causing her heart to race even faster.

The panic intensified. Olly was nowhere to be found, and her father was now home. She knew that he would scold her for not taking better care of her little sister.

Her dad's voice echoed once more, calling for Olly, but there was still no response.

In that anxious moment, she made a difficult decision. She would have to confess the truth to her father. However, just as she was about to speak, the door of her room's cupboard was abruptly pulled open, and Olly sprang out from inside.

Olly cheekily winked at her and dashed out of the room to their dad.

Relieved but still shaken, she sank onto her bed, only to be overwhelmed by a sudden wave of panic. She rushed to the bathroom, feeling the familiar symptoms of a panic attack wash over her, a mixture of fear and relief cascading through her all at once.

...............***...............

As we wrapped up our college rooftop celebration and transitioned to the next phase of my birthday, we found ourselves at a crossroads. Amara and I were in my car, while the rest of our group piled into Romano's vehicle. The looming destination: a nightclub pulsating with the promise of fun and revelry.

However, amidst the excited chatter and anticipation of a night out, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of nostalgia and melancholy wash over me. I confided in Amara, the friend who had championed this clubbing venture in the first place, about my conflicted emotions.

"Amara," I began, my voice tinged with a hint of sorrow, "I'm just not in the mood for clubbing tonight. You see, I've always celebrated my birthday with Olly, and... I miss her."

Amara nodded sympathetically, her understanding eyes meeting mine. "I get it, Ava," she said softly. "But it's your birthday, and we should try to make the best of it. If Olivia were here with us today, I'm sure she'd want you to enjoy this special day."

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, laden with the weight of uncertainty and longing. "The thing is, Amara," I continued, "Olivia isn't here. In fact, we have no idea where she is. It's as if she's vanished without a trace, leaving us with no clues to follow. I don't even know if she's had a meal today."

My words came out sharper than I intended, driven by the turmoil within me that had been brewing all day. Memories of the countless birthdays Olivia and I had shared as twins flooded my thoughts, reminding me of just how distinct we were from each other.

At that moment, as we sat in my car on the cusp of a night out, I couldn't shake the sense of loss and the mystery surrounding Olivia's disappearance. The contrast between our past celebrations and the uncertainty of this birthday weighed heavily on my heart.

Just as our conversation about Olivia's mysterious disappearance was taking its toll on my emotions, my phone abruptly rang, breaking the somber atmosphere inside the car. With a sense of urgency, I answered the call, as I had instructed my father's team to contact me only if they had any new information regarding the location we had recently traced as a potential lead in our quest to find Olivia.

"Hello?" I said, my voice betraying a mixture of hope and anxiety.

"Ma'am," came the voice on the other end, belonging to one of my father's trusted associates who had been assisting me in the mission, "there was no one in that house. It appeared to be a luxurious residence, meticulously cleaned and well-maintained."

Frustration and disappointment surged within me. I had expected this lead to yield something substantial, to bring us closer to Olivia's whereabouts. My patience waned as I responded, "I didn't ask you to assess luxurious houses. What about Olivia? Did you find any trace of her?"

The voice on the other end sighed audibly, conveying the fruitless hours they had spent at the location. "No, ma'am," they replied, their tone laced with disappointment. "There was no evidence of a kidnapping at the house. We even discovered some recent belongings, but the property was empty. We've been stationed here for five hours, and no one has returned to the location."

My irritation escalated as I absorbed this disheartening news. "Fine," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "Stay there a little longer and find out everything you can about the house and its owners."

With that, I ended the call, unable to shake the mounting frustration and sense of helplessness that had become all too familiar in our relentless pursuit of Olivia's whereabouts.

Amidst the lingering tension and frustration, Amara's voice broke through the heaviness in the car. "Ava, you really need to calm down. Your anger will lead you to dead ends," she advised, her concern evident in her tone.

I sighed, realizing the truth in her words. "So what should I do? I can't just leave her thoughts, Amara," I replied, my frustration evident in my voice. The worry for Olivia had taken residence in my mind, and the mere thought of something unfortunate happening to her refused to leave.

Amara, always quick to find a solution, suggested, "Okay, I guess then we should just not go to the club but have a party at your house. Rom told us how happening your place was."

Her attempt to shift my focus was palpable, and I couldn't help but entertain the idea. "Can we do that?" I asked, feeling a spark of interest in her proposal. The notion of a lively gathering at my house seemed like a welcome distraction from the relentless worry.

"Sure, let me call the gang," Amara responded, her attention turning to her phone. I nodded in agreement, and as she dialed up our friends, I drove the car towards my house. The prospect of turning the night around with a gathering at my place offered a glimmer of solace amidst the uncertainty surrounding Olivia's disappearance.

Before long, our group had gathered at my place, and the guys had brought along their favorite assortment of drinks and snacks. This crew had an insatiable appetite, particularly for good food. The evening's festivities were in full swing. 

Given our earlier exploits on the college terrace, we opted for a simpler plan: drinks, snacks, and dancing. As the night wore on, we found ourselves progressively tipsy and gravitating towards the dance floor.

"Come on, Ava! Just one more drink," a slightly intoxicated Amara insisted, pushing another glass towards me. I hesitated, having already downed three potent drinks, but the idea of another one was oddly tempting. Succumbing to the temptation, I accepted the drink and downed it in a single gulp. 

Placing the empty glass back on the table, I enthusiastically joined the group on the dance floor, swaying to the music. Dancing had always been a cherished pastime, something my mom had taught me when I was little.

Suddenly, a hand firmly clasped my waist and pulled me closer to its owner. I found myself ensnared in Romano's intense gaze, and as if in a trance, we began drawing nearer to each other. Overwhelmed by my emotions, I impulsively pressed my lips against his. 

His lips were soft, and the kiss seemed to take him by surprise. I feared he might pull away, so I momentarily stopped, preparing to retreat. However, instead of letting go, he pulled me closer, and our lips met again, this time with even more passion.

Our kiss grew fervent and intense, but our passionate moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of my ringing phone. It was my ringtone. Romano appeared to snap back to reality, abruptly pushing me away and leaving without a backward glance. 

The sudden rejection stung, and I reluctantly answered the call, my anger evident in my voice. "Hey!" I began, intending to scold the person on the other end, but I was cut off by a familiar voice. "Happy Birthday, my twinny."

...............***...............

Thanks for reading.

lots of love

xxx