ELORA

Just as Gemma reached for the car door handle, my phone lit up on the seat between us. The screen flashed a name that made my stomach plummet like an anchor.

Rowen.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath and grabbed the phone.

11:07 PM.

I was supposed to be picked up at ten. Over an hour late.

My stomach twisted in panic. "Crap, crap, crap," I hissed, and declined the call before the second ring.

Gemma paused halfway out of the car and turned to me. "Who was that?"

I shook my head quickly, trying to steady my voice. "No one. Just… Just someone from work. It’s nothing."

She...