LIMINAL || 𝙅𝙖𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙚 [1]

𝟙𝟚 | 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤

☽●☾

As Cara sat in the old recliner, a now empty cup of coffee in one hand and her cellphone in the other, she tried to keep her mind from imagining the worst case scenario of where her sister was and what she was doing.

I'm going to kill her when she gets home. And then I'm going to ground her.

She'd been waiting up since midnight, the time at which Collins had said she would be home by. Cara had made the decision to stay up and wait to make sure she got in safely. And, okay, maybe she wanted to make sure that her sister didn't pull some idiotic plan to sneak her date into the house and then have him gone by morning. But either way, she was trying to be the responsible older sister that her parents had wanted. That was the only reason she hadn't called them in the middle of their day and told them that Collins was missing; it would prove that she'd failed at the task she'd promised she could handle.

It's just like Collins to stay out all night with no regard for anyone else that might be concerned. She doesn't care that I could get called into work on a miniscule amount of sleep. She doesn't care that I've been up for hours. She won't even answer her phone for God's sake!

It was easier to allow her worry to manifest as anger, easier to imagine that Collins was being lackadaisical rather than hurt. It took everything for Cara to not think about the murders in Seattle that had been all over the news recently. What if the perpetrators had moved to the Forks area?

She couldn't just sit here in the dark for another five hours, waiting on pins and needles; she had to at least try and do something. First, she'd drive around to the places that Collins might be, like Reverend Weber's house or the Stanleys'. The Cullen residence was also a possibility, but she didn't know where they lived. If anything, she could call Dr. Cullen in the event that her search turned up fruitless. She didn't know where Matthew Reese's family lived either. How had she managed to not inquire about that? It wasn't very responsible of her.

She could check the venue of the dance, too, in case Collins had become incapacitated at some point and was waiting there to drive home. And the police station, though surely Charlie would have called if anything had happened, right?

Charlie...I could check in with him as my next to last resort. He wouldn't call my parents if I asked him not to, since Collins is eighteen.

Cara took the time to change clothes and throw her hair up into an old ball cap before brewing a to-go cup of coffee and grabbing her keys. The clock on the microwave read 5:55 am.

I'll give her until ten 'o' clock. If I can't find her by then, I'll panic.

☽●☾

The first thought that crossed my mind in the gray area between being asleep and being awake was that this was the warmest I'd been since leaving Alabama. It was bliss to be away from the cold, wet weather of Forks for just a moment, even if it was just a dream. The bedding wasn't mine, but that thought hadn't fully formed in my mind. All that mattered was how soft and cozy it felt against my skin. The pillow was the perfect level of firmness under my head; I rolled over and smothered my face in the blanket and sheets, remembering that my foot was in a boot and propped up on a stack of pillows. The scent of linen was overshadowed by something else much better. Something that would have smelled familiar if my brain hadn't been halfway asleep. Something sweet and oaky, with a hint of leather and ash, just like...

I quickly jerked my head back out of the blankets and instantly regretted it. Pain flashed through my temples, the light coming in through the windows like a strobe light against my eyes. The image in front of me swirled as a wave of nausea washed through my stomach. I plopped back down and tried not to throw up at the same time.