The Search for Lily Myers ✓

01 | Omens

In hindsight, Amelia should have taken the gun on the nightstand as an omen that her life was taking a turn for the worse.

But when you're around a gun enough—in her case, when your dad is a security guard and your boyfriend a police officer—you begin to forget that it's a killing thing. You'll never fully forget, not quite, but it slips away to the edges of your consciousness like an item you've packed away and stuffed in the attic for later.

"You've really gotta stop bringing that thing in here," she mumbled, still half-asleep, as she rolled over onto her side to look at her boyfriend.

Colton was already mostly dressed in his uniform but paused buttoning up his shirt to sit back down on the edge of the mattress, which dipped slightly beneath the added weight. A loose strand of dark blonde hair hung over his forehead as he leaned over to cup her cheek in his hand.

"Sorry," he murmured. "You want breakfast?"

Amelia almost said that she'd rather sleep in than eat right now—it was 6:30 on a Saturday morning, after all—but what was the point of moving in with him if not for them to spend time together? If he had to endure working on the weekend, the least she could do was drag herself out of bed to have breakfast with him.

"Yeah." She stifled a yawn. "Just give me a minute."

It wasn't until he had finished getting dressed and left the room to go start breakfast that Amelia crawled out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she slouched to the bathroom to evaluate her appearance in the mirror. Her black hair practically looked like a rat's nest and she had to resist a strong impulse to do much more than quickly rake her fingers through it for right now—she was going to have to get used to not always looking perfectly put-together in front of Colton if this whole living together thing was ever going to work.

They were testing the waters right now, a trial run of sorts. He had wanted to go all-in right away, but Amelia wasn't quite brave enough to immediately give up her apartment to move in with someone she'd been dating for eight months. She could tell that he was slightly irked about it; her mother, meanwhile, was on the verge of disowning her for even considering moving in with someone she wasn't married to.

No matter what she did, it always seemed to be the wrong thing. But Amelia had never been great at making other people happy—it was something she'd just learned to live with.

As she leaned forward over the sink to brush her teeth, the loose neckline of the tee shirt she'd worn to bed sagged downward and revealed a splotch of purple on her shoulder. She lifted a delicate finger to it, then winced; it was still tender. Self-consciously, she pulled her shirt back up to hide the bruise as if someone besides herself were watching her right now and might comment on it. She'd have to remember to wear a better top if she went out anywhere today.

But in spite of her attempts to shove it out of sight and out of mind, that little mark on her skin seemed to nag her the entire time she was getting ready. Colton wasn't a bad person. Colton would never hurt her on purpose. Colton loved her. He was just so accustomed to being rough with people on the job that it occasionally slipped his mind to be more gentle at home.

The buttery smell of fresh hash browns wafted down the hallway as she made her way to the kitchen. She could hear the sound of the news playing on the TV. As silly as she thought it was that he still put that on—what almost-thirty-year-old still watched the morning news in 2020?—she found it equally endearing.

He was quietly humming something as he dished the potatoes onto two plates—a larger serving for him than her—and Amelia sat down on the couch. He joined her a moment later just as the news segment was switching and the headline Local College Student Missing popped up onscreen.