Kyle took a detour on the way back home. The rideshare driver didn't question it when he changed the destination mid-trip, just adjusted the route and kept driving. Kyle needed to see Ella face to face, tell her about the trip himself instead of through a text message. After disappearing for two days without explanation, she deserved that much.
The car pulled up outside the apartment building. Kyle paid, tipped extra, and climbed out onto the familiar sidewalk. Home. Finally.
He took the stairs two at a time despite the ache in his shoulder, key already in his hand as he reached the door. The apartment was quiet when he stepped inside. Too quiet.
"Ella?" he called out, dropping his keys on the table by the door.
Nothing. He checked the bedroom, the bathroom, even the small balcony where she sometimes sat with her guitar. Empty. She wasn't home.
