The Missing Best Friend

Early the next morning, I told Tristan there was an urgent project at work and I needed to travel for a few days.

He was tying his tie and didn’t even look back. “Where to?”

“Northaven.”

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure. Three or four days, maybe.”

He turned to glance at me and smiled. “Stay safe.”

I smiled back.

My flight was at noon.

I didn’t go to Northaven.

I went to Valoria, to the city of Silverridge.

The plane landed at four in the afternoon, local time.

The air in Silverridge was hot and heavy, the smell hitting me all at once, leaving me dazed for a moment.

The last photo Lena sent me had been taken in this city.

She was at a lively and crowded night market.

She stood in front of a stall selling mango pudding, smiling like a child.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

I went straight to the hotel Lena had stayed in.

I had already looked it up before leaving.

Before her trip, Lena sent me a screenshot of her booking—a boutique hotel by the old town called Lotus Courtyard.

At the front desk, I took out Lena’s photo and asked the receptionist.

“This girl stayed at your hotel about a month ago. Do you remember her?”

The receptionist looked at the photo and shook his head.

“Her name is Lena Moore. She isn't from Valoria,” I added.

The receptionist checked the system, then nodded. “We do have a record. She stayed for three nights, didn’t extend, and never checked out. Her luggage is still in our storage.”

My heart clenched sharply.

Her luggage was still there but she was gone.

I steadied myself and asked the question I dreaded most.

“A month ago, did a man stay here as well?”

I handed over Tristan’s photo.

The receptionist glanced at it, checked the system again, then looked up, hesitating.

“Yes. He stayed for five nights.”

Five nights.

He stayed three nights longer than Lena.

“Which room was he in?”

“312.”

“And Lena?”

“315.”

They stayed at the same floor but two rooms apart.

I stood at the front desk, a dull buzz filling my head.

My first thought was the most predictable—they were having an affair.

Lena and Tristan, in Valoria, staying in rooms side by side.

But the thought had barely formed before another voice shut it down.

No.

Lena hated Tristan.

It wasn’t the polite, distant kind of dislike.

It was the kind where she would call him out to his face without holding back.

Every time I brought Tristan to a gathering, Lena barely acknowledged him.

Once, after a few drinks, she said it straight to his face, “Zoe’s great in every way, except her taste in men.”

Tristan’s face had gone stiff on the spot.

After that, they never even looked at each other properly.

How could two people like that possibly be having an affair in Valoria?

Then why was he staying right next to her?

What was he doing there?

I took a slow breath and looked at the receptionist.

“I need access to your surveillance footage from that period.”

She hesitated. “I’m afraid we’ll need to get approval from the manager.”

“Please do.”

“And we may also need police authorization.”

“My best friend is missing.”

I cut her off, my voice steady, though my hands were shaking.

“It’s been a month. There’s no sign of her, alive or dead. Your hotel may be one of the last places she was seen. Do you really think your manager won’t cooperate?”

She fell silent.

Then she picked up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, the hotel’s security supervisor led me to the surveillance room.

It was small, with screens covering three walls.

He pulled up footage from a month ago, starting from the day Lena checked in.

I sat down, eyes fixed on the screens, my palms cold with sweat.