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Chapter 14

~~9:05 pm ~~

o   Dante

“Uno!” Angel exclaimed, throwing down a red five card on the table.

I grinned sheepishly at her, looking at the number of cards in my hand; there was just no beating her at Uno.

I put down a green five card, and before I could even think of saying “Uno!” to beat Angel to her chance to win, she said again, “Uno!” and threw down a green three card.

I tossed down my cards and sighed. “Looks like luck’s in your favor again.”

She chuckled, rolling her eyes cutely. “No, it’s just that you suck at this, Dante.”

“I do not,” I smirked, crossing my hands over my chest, “Uno is a game of luck, not skill.”

“Loser,” Angel stuck out her tongue playfully.

I got off my seat and grabbed Angel by the waist. I then proceeded to tickle her for a while, our laughter filling the dining room. After a minute or so, we wound up sitting on the living room couch.

I cuddled her from behind, my hands coming together at her stomach. I kissed her on her cheek and glanced at the wall clock above our heads.

“It’s getting late,” I told Angel as the last of her giggles faded away, “Are you sure your parents won’t mind me being here at this time?”

“Just stay a while longer,” Angel leaned back onto me, “Please?”

I gave her a quick squeeze. “All right, all right. A little longer.”

We cuddled silently for five minutes, then the wireless landline phone began to ring.

“Hang on,” Angel murmured as I let go of her.

She strode over to the kitchen counter and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

I pulled out my phone and got on Facebook, then checked my news feed out of mere whim.

“Oh hi, Mrs. Quirox. How are you?”

Scrolling down, I noticed that Carol had posted a picture from her mobile: a picture of a glass filled with what I could only deduce was wine – alcohol.

As I eyed the picture with growing suspicion, the shift in Angel’s tone caught my attention.

“What?” she said, sounding notches more anxious, “But how? … No, no, I haven’t heard from her at all today… Carol’s not answering her phone?”

The sound of Carol’s name, associated with what about it was being said, brought me to my  feet and closely beside Angel, looking at her questioningly.

Angel looked at me, her eyes clearly showing her worry. “No, we don’t know where she is, Mrs. Quirox… umm, yes… okay… Where could she be?”

I glanced at the picture Carol had posted, which was uploaded half an hour ago, and there was an address – well, it was only a street. It was as vague as that.

“Okay, Mrs. Quirox … I’ll try calling her…”

“Angel, let me talk to her,” I whispered urgently.

Angel looked at me expectantly, as if to urge me to explain, but she handed over the phone right away. I pressed it to my ear. “Mrs. Quirox? It’s Dante – I’m a friend of Carol’s.”

“Dante,” came the very anxious voice of Carol’s mother, “Carol is—”

“Mrs. Quirox, I think I know where she is – she’s at downtown. She just posted a photo on he Facebook from her phone thirty minutes ago,” I reported rapidly.