Stolen

The note said: Get out now. While you still can.
Well, that's not what people typically passed under the stall in the lady's room.
"Uh, hello?"
The toilet next to me flushed and I could hear footsteps walking away before the door opened and closed. I grimaced. Well, someone didn't wash their hands.
Placing the odd situation at the back of my mind, I turned back to the task at hand. I placed the needle in the liquid, allowing the correct amount of dosage into the syringe. Pinching the skin between my elbow and shoulder, I injected the insulin into my arm. The needle remained in my arm ten seconds before I brought it out. I placed my medicinal supplies away, carefully, before addressing the minor bleeding on my arm.
I washed my hands but before I could leave the bathroom, my attention was drawn back to the note written on a greasy, brown napkin on the floor. I scanned the words again: Get out now. While you still can.
I scoffed. I knew exactly who wrote this.
Gripping the napkin, I stormed out the bathroom, a tongue-lashing prepared for my very own best friend. When I got to the table where I had last seen her, she sat there, all innocent and unassuming. I slapped the note against the table, "Did you write this?"
People from other tables swiveled towards us, drawn by the anger and volume of my voice. I ducked and my cheeks flushed before I turned my angry stare back at Jackie, the aforementioned best friend. "Well, did you?"
She snatched the napkin from my hand, "What the world?" Her eyes scanned the letter with bewilderment before she paled and her brown eyes widened. "Where did you get this? What is this?"
"Oh, you're really a good actress!" I pounded my fisted hand on the table. I couldn't believe she was lying!
"What? You think this was me?" Her voice raised with feigned disbelief causing heads to turn our way.
"Who else? You've been trying to convince me not to go on this trip the whole time, Jackie!"
"With good reason. We don't know anything about them," she whispered this time. "They could be serial killers,Caroline."
"Would you stop?" My anger flared. She had talked my ear off the entire night before with ludicrous theories and whatnot. At first, it was humorous but now it was ridiculous. "Do you think my dad would let me go camping with just anyone? He's a detective!"
"And your grandfather's commissioner! That didn't stop someone from taking--"
As soon as she started her sentence, she stopped. A lump formed in my throat because as much as I wished I didn't, I knew what she was going to say.
"Say it." I kept a hot avalanche of tears at bay, before I repeated, "Say it, Jackie."
She couldn't meet my eyes nor could she say utter the words she was going to a moment ago. I couldn't blame her. So I did it for her, "That didn't stop someone from taking Courtney, right?"It pained me to say it.
Three years ago, my sister had gone missing. But it wasn't the first time she had gone missing. We thought she had ran away for the weekend with one of her friends again. She always came back, smelling of weed and alcohol. That time, she didn't return. And the police were unable to find anything on the friend she'd left with. They weren't enrolled in the college class where Courtney had met them, the name they went by was fake, and like Courtney, they were gone without a trace. There was roughly any evidence except the yellow scarf stained with blood, belonging to Courtney. The blood turned out to be a dead end after police verified the blood didn't belong to Courtney.
"I didn't write that letter," Jackie sniffed, interrupting the traffic of my thoughts. She slid the note across the table towards me. "But maybe," she finally met my eyes, "You should heed the warning."
I opened my mouth but I was interrupted.
"Excuse me." A plump woman with mousy hair and thick framed glasses stood over Jackie and I. She adorned a cardigan under her apron despite the warm weather outside and watched Jackie and I warily from behind her glasses with warm, brown eyes.
"Yes?" I smiled, nervously. Maybe Jackie and I had been louder than I thought and she was going to ask us to leave. The diner was a tiny, quiet establishment.
"Have we met before?"
Jackie and I exchanged glances. It was not the question we had expected. We had expected something more along the lines of "Could you please leave this establishment?"
"Uh, n-no," I stammered. "I don't--," Jackie and I shared a look again, "I don't think I've ever seen you before."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I had seen you somewhere before..." She took the dishes from our table and ventured back toward the kitchen.
"There you girls are."
Before Jackie and I could talk about the strange situation, a sweaty woman in her mid-forties appeared in front of us. She looked relieved to see us, breathing as though she'd just ran a marathon. Sinking in the chair beside me, she stole a strawberry off of Jackie's plate. Judging by the look on Jackie's face, if she were a chihuahua, she would have bitten the brunette's fingers off. "We thought you two had ran away."
I chuckled at the flustered woman, realizing why she had appeared so. "Of course not, Mrs. Brown."
"Not before you can kill us," Jackie chimed in. Swiftly, I kicked her under the table and shot her a promising look. Mrs. Brown threw her head back and laughed to my relief. "That's a pretty cackle you got there." Another kick.
"You are funny, Jacqueline."
Jackie grimaced at her full name. Thankfully, Mrs. Brown ignored Jackie. She took out her phone and laughed. "I can call off the search party. Andrea and my mister were looking for you, too."
This time, I ignored Jackie who tried to send signals with her icy and blue eyes. "Sorry about that. We woke up early and remembered this place from a couple of days ago."
"It's fine. Are you girls ready to go?" Mrs. Brown smiled.
"Yes."
"No."
I kicked Jackie under the table. Again. We shared a look before she "clarified", "I mean, I think I need to go to the restroom." Her smile was forced but Mrs. Brown took no notice and nodded.
"Okay, that's fine. Just meet me outside at the car, okay, girls?" She smiled again and left.
"Okay, I know you are blonde, Caroline but it's box dye so you can't be that dumb."
Here we go again. "What are you talking about?"
Jackie gestured to where Mrs. Brown had sat. "That. We're eighteen and nineteen years old, Caroline. What reason would she have to 'check on us'?" She put up air quotations as if to emphasize her good point.
"Jackie. Let it rest. How could someone that nice be a serial killer?"
"Oh please," Jackie followed me to the bathroom. "She smiles like Pennywise the clown."
When Jackie and I came out the bathroom, we headed towards the car like her mother said. Only when we got there, there was a policeman talking to Mrs. Brown.
"What's going on?" Jackie managed to sound concerned. But the smug expression on her face fooled no one.
I elbowed Jackie. "Could you at least try not to look elated?"
Jackie snorted. "Normal people don't use that word, Caroline. Elated."
Laughing, I nudged her with my shoulder. "Good thing we're fictional and being normal wasn't in the plot." We laughed together before approaching the car. We came within hearing distance upon the last of the conversation.
"Where did you say you were headed?" the cop towered over Andrea's mother as he leaned against their car. His eyes were an emerald green and stared suspiciously at Mrs. Brown. The navy uniform restrained his muscular physique, complementing his impressive and intimidating appearance.
Jackie noticed too and whistled. "If he puts anyone in handcuffs, I hope it's me," she joked and I laughed. She was slowly returning to my carefree and joking Jackie.
I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into my side. I felt bad for accusing her of writing the letter which was beginning to burn a hole in my pocket. She said she didn't write the letter and I had not believed her. Maybe Jackie was being impossible because she thought I was turning my back on her--trying to replace her with Andrea.
As I drew this conclusion, I came upon another startling revelation that made my stomach turn. If Jackie didn't write that letter and slide it under the stall directly to me...then who did?
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