Chapter 8: Too Late to Find Her

Three weeks passed before Matteo finally realized I wasn't coming back.

At first, he had treated my disappearance like one of our usual arguments.

He told his friends I was being dramatic.

He told his parents I needed time.

He even told Chiara that I would eventually call him.

But I never did.

Then one afternoon, he came to my old workplace.

My former coworker met him in the lobby.

“Celeste doesn't work here anymore.”

Matteo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She resigned.”

“When?”

“Almost three weeks ago.”

His face went pale.

“Do you know where she went?”

My coworker shook her head. “She didn't tell us.”

That answer seemed to break something inside him.

For twelve years, Matteo had known where I was.

At work.

At home.

Waiting for him.

He had never considered what it would feel like if I became impossible to find.

When he returned home, Chiara was sitting on the couch.

She looked up immediately.

“Did you find her?”

“She quit.”

Chiara's expression tightened.

“Maybe she just wants attention.”

Matteo stared at her.

For the first time, her words didn't comfort him.

“Stop saying that.”

Chiara blinked.

“I'm only trying to help.”

“Then help me understand something.”

He stepped closer.

“Why did you have Celeste's grandmother's quilt?”

Chiara went silent.

That silence was answer enough.

“I asked you where it was,” Matteo said.

“You told me you didn't know.”

Chiara looked away.

“I was going to replace it.”

“That wasn't my question.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

Matteo's jaw tightened.

“Did you put it in the litter box?”

She didn't answer.

“Chiara.”

Finally, she whispered, “I was angry.”

Matteo took a step back.

He suddenly remembered every time he had defended her.

Every time Celeste had cried because of something Chiara had done.

Every time he had told Celeste she was imagining things.

And now he understood that she hadn't imagined any of it.

“Where is the quilt now?” he asked.

“I threw it away.”

His face went completely still.

That quilt wasn't replaceable.

Not with ten new ones.

Not with a hundred.

It had belonged to Celeste's grandmother, the woman who had raised her after her parents moved away.

Chiara reached for his hand.

“Matteo, please.”

He pulled away.

“Don't.”

She stared at him.

“You're angry with me because Celeste left?”

“I'm angry because you lied.”

“You chose me over her for years.”

Her voice cracked.

“You said I mattered.”

Matteo looked at her for a long moment.

“I thought you were my friend.”

Chiara's tears stopped.

That sentence hurt her more than shouting would have.

Matteo picked up his keys.

“Where are you going?”

“To find Celeste.”

“Why?”

He paused at the door.

Because he finally understood that she wasn't waiting for him anymore.

“Because I need to know if I've already lost her for good.”