It might just be Eric, anyway. Maybe he's come up with a sufficiently insane theory. Or maybe he wants me to come up with one for him. Why does everyone expect me to have the answers?
I get dressed and hang my towel behind the door. I should really wash it one of these days.
I wander into my room and pick up my phone. Sure enough, text message from Eric.
Where are you, man? I just talked
to Priscilla. Brooke didn't go home
last night and no one knows where
she is. I'll call back soon. Please
pick up this time.
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