She put little trust in his parting thoughts, unwilling to see that anything about the situation could be reconciled. Nadia was gone, left her in this disoriented state. Gone.
Sonya walked with Damien to the front of her house and watched his car leave the property. There was panic edging in as he left--would he truly come to check on her, or would he leave her alone too?
Emptiness crept in to fill the void and she turned back into the house. She spent some time checking each outlet methodically before finally finding the charger for her phone, feeling foolish all the while because this was something that she should've remembered. With the plug in her hand, the knowledge of what to do with it finally emerged from the darkness of her amnesia. She watched the blank screen for a moment as it accumulated enough of a charge to finally power on. As soon as the screen lit up, the phone vibrated intensely in her hand and she almost dropped it.
There were a total of nine missed calls. Six of them, as well as seven text messages, were from the same number. The contact name was not stored. The only contact names that were stored were Damien and Nadia--that much she could remember. Sonya pressed the screen to pull up the messaging app, navigating through the phone with muscle memory.
Friday, August 13th:
[5:32 pm]: We're going out tonight.
[5:47 pm]: ?
Saturday, August 14th:
[7:01 pm]: the fuck, Sonya.
Monday, August 16th:
[6:49 pm] you cunt.
[11:50 pm] Sonya.
Tuesday, August 17th:
[12:20 am] ?
Sunday, October 9th:
[11:59 pm] the fuck did you go?
Her heart leaped into her throat as she finished reading, something jolting through her body like an electric current. There was fervent pushing against her mind again and frantically she deleted the entire text conversation. Mouth intensely dry, she looked again at the number on the slip of paper and compared it to the numbers in her missed calls log. None of them matched. She scrolled again through her text messages, finding a match. There were only a few messages, all in Italian, and the last one asked if he would be able to see her again. Sonya began to type up a long-delayed reply to the warm, soft Italian boy.