ANNA'S POV
The vibrant music still throbbed in my ears, a fading echo of the joyous celebration that had been my birthday party. I was utterly carried away, truly swept up by the outpouring of love and overwhelming enjoyment I was receiving from everyone. As I danced, lost in the rhythm, with my wonderful man, Ken, I couldn't possibly think of anything else. Our steps were perfectly in sync, his hand warm against my back, and for a blissful moment, the entire world outside that dance floor ceased to exist.
But then the song ended, and with a contented sigh, we retired to our plush seats, ready to continue with our drinks and the lively chatter around us. It was in that quiet lull, as I took a sip of my champagne, that a sudden, unsettling realization dawned on me: Angel was nowhere to be seen. Her absence felt like a gaping hole where a moment ago there had been bright laughter.
A prickle of worry, light at first, began to form. I politely excused myself from the table, telling Ken I just needed a moment, and started a discreet search. I weaved through the remaining guests, scanned the bar, peeked into the ladies' room – everywhere I could think of – but she was simply gone.
Pulling out my phone, my fingers trembled slightly as I dialed her number. It rang, a hollow sound against the fading music, but there was no answer. I tried again, a little more frantically this time, but still, no one picked up. My heart rate began to accelerate. I remembered her car, so I hurried outside to the hotel's parking area where we had left it earlier. To my relief, her car was still there, meaning she hadn't actually left the hotel premises. A half-formed, slightly annoyed thought crossed my mind, Maybe she'd just slipped away into one of the rooms with a guy for a quick rendezvous?
But another, more dominant part of me was deeply annoyed. How could she just vanish like that without a word, without informing me? We were here to celebrate my birthday, after all, not for her to disappear for a casual hookup. That wasn't like her. Not Angel.
Despite the growing unease, I forced myself to return to our table, attempting to pretend that nothing was amiss. I pasted a smile on my face, tried to engage in conversation, but my gaze kept drifting towards the entrance, towards the dance floor, searching for her familiar red dress. Time ticked by, each passing minute stretching into an agonizing eternity, until finally, it was time for us to go home. And still, there was no trace of Angel.
"Where's your friend? We really ought to be heading home; it's almost morning," Ken said, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and growing fatigue.
I scanned the nearly empty ballroom. Almost everyone had departed, save for a few stragglers who were likely booking rooms for the night. The party was truly over, but my nightmare was just beginning.
"I... I can't find her, Ken," I confessed, the words catching in my throat. "I've called her number so many times, but it just rings and goes unanswered." The heat of anxiety was now a full flush on my face, my hands clammy.
Angel had only just touched down in New York that very morning, having flown all the way from Finland, and now, just hours later, she was missing. A chilling thought was starting to form in the pit of my stomach: was she kidnapped, or had she truly left on her own accord? But the Angel I knew – my best friend, my confidante – would never leave an event, especially my birthday, without at least a quick word. I trusted her implicitly on that.
Both Ken and I, along with some of his friends who were still lingering, began a more earnest, frantic search. We approached the reception desk, asking the startled night receptionist if she had seen a young woman matching Angel's description – a short, classic red gown, bright smile. But she denied seeing anyone. Growing desperate, we urged her to make an emergency announcement, requesting everyone still inside the hotel, every guest, every staff member, to gather in the lobby. We explained the urgency, the fear.
Reluctantly, her face etched with concern, she took out the telephone from beneath the counter and pressed the emergency button. Within what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a few minutes, every guest who had lodged in the hotel that night slowly trickled into the lobby. Each face was scrutinized, each form examined. Yet, as each person appeared, my heart sank further, heavier; there was still no trace of Angel among them.
At this terrifying point, I couldn't control the torrent of emotions any longer. My carefully held composure shattered, and hot, stinging tears streamed freely down my face, blurring the faces of the strangers staring back at me.
"Babe, please don't cry," my fiancé, Ken, whispered, pulling me gently into his arms, his embrace a small comfort against the rising panic. "It will be fine. We will find her. If we don't, we'll involve the police first thing in the morning."
He tried to coax me into going home, to get some rest, but I refused point blank, shaking my head violently. "No! I won't leave this place without my Angel!" I cried, my voice thick with unshed tears and desperation. If she'd been kidnapped, then they might as well come and take me too. How could I possibly go home and sleep while my best friend, who had traveled all the way from Finland to New York just to honor my birthday, was missing? The thought was unbearable, a sharp dagger to my heart.
"You can't lose hope right now. She's probably just somewhere enjoying herself with a guy," Ken insisted, still gently pleading with me to calm down and wait until morning, trying to offer a glimmer of a less sinister explanation.
I looked at him, unable to utter a single word. My mind was spiraling, losing its grip on reality, teetering on the edge of a breakdown. I didn't blame him for his words, not really. It was only because he didn't truly know the kind of person Angel was, not like I did, that he could say such things. He didn't understand the depth of her loyalty, or how completely out of character this disappearance was. And that, more than anything, terrified me.