“Good morning, Miss Reed,” the officer began, tipping his hat slightly. His partner stood silently beside him, scanning the hallway. “We received a call from your mother. She was concerned that she couldn’t reach you and thought something might have happened.”
I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around the situation. My mother, using the police to make contact when a text would have sufficed? My pulse still thudded in my ears, but I forced myself to breathe deeply. “I’m fine,” I assured them, my voice steadier than I felt. “I changed my locks, that’s all. Is there something else I can help with?”
The officer’s expression softened, and his tone shifted from official to conversational. “She mentioned being worried because you usually respond right away.”
