Emma sat on one end of Norman's bed. She stared at Norman wide-eyed. She took a breath and ran her hands through her bangs. "I'm about to call her mom," Emma stated, clucking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
Norman licked his lips. "No, don't do that," he replied.
Emma exhaled dramatically. "I know. I won't. But I feel like I should do something."
"Well what can you do?" Norman asked.
"I don't know." She looked at him. "But I'm worried about her."
"Well," Norman thought. "She said she wanted to get away. She just needs to escape for a little while. You can't blame her, can you?"
"No, but this is not like her. She doesn't do this kind of stuff, Norman. All because of Dylan."
"You can't just blame Dylan. I mean, she-we-got kidnapped. Maybe she is still upset about that." He looked at Emma and continued. "You're probably right though."
At that moment, they both jumped when someone pushed the door open and it creaked late in the night. Dylan stepped into the room with his eyebrows raised. "What's going on?" he asked.
Emma glanced at Norman and then looked down at a wrinkle in the sheet. Norman looked at her and looked down to collect his thoughts before meeting eyes with Dylan. "It's nothing. Seriously."
"Well, it must be. I heard my name. Seriously." Dylan crossed his arms.
"It's Ginny," Emma spoke up in an exhausted tone, massaging her eyes with her hands.
"What about her?" Dylan asked.
"You still care about her don't you?" Norman cut in.
"What kind of question is that?" Dylan furrowed his eyebrows at his brother.
Norman took a hint and hushed. Emma went on. "We're just worried about her, that's all."
"Why? What's going on?" Dylan asked, shifting his weight.
Emma nodded slightly at Norman, urging him to explain. "Well," Norman said. "I called her to see how she was doing and she was at a party I think. She was drunk and high. And she said she was depressed. She thinks you hate her."
"She said she wanted to get away, and I asked her from what and she never responded. The phone didn't go dead, but I eventually hung up. She wouldn't answer," Emma added.
Dylan licked his lips, letting the information sink in. Before he could reply, Emma piped, "This isn't like her. I'm worried about her."
Dylan scrunched his face in confusion. "Wait, so she said I hate her?" He uncrossed his arms. "And she's depressed?"
"And drunk. And high," Norman repeated.
Dylan checked his watch. He stood there for a moment before giving instructions. "Emma, could you write down her address for me? I'm going to get a couple hours of sleep and then I'm going over there."
"Wait, you're going to her house? Well, I'm going with you," Emma stood.
Dylan shook his head. "No. This is something I need to do alone."
Norman stood also. "I'll go make you a to-go package."
Dylan nodded at him in appreciation. "Thanks, Norman."
"Are you telling her you're coming?" asked Emma.
"No. And I can't. She blocked my number. What does it take, like three hours to get there?"
"Six." said Emma.
"Shit," Dylan muttered. "Ok. I want to get there sometime in the morning."
"You'll want to set your alarm for sometime around three to get there around nine," Emma stated.
Dylan nodded his head. "Ok." He turned to go to his room.
"Good luck, Dylan," Emma said.
Dylan nodded and told her thanks before retreating to his room for some quick sleep.