lost ↠ d.t.

Chapter 3 : Divorce

"Two weeks... it... it happened two weeks ago." I softly close my eyes and interlock my shaky fingers together. I look up at the officer who swallows rather harshly the news.

"Can you describe to me what your sister looks like?" she keeps her gaze low, fiddling with a bunch of documents. I stare down at my shaking hands, trying my best to not break down in front of everyone.

Everyone meaning her and my family waiting on the other side of the glass window.

"She uhh... she must be around five feet four, brown hair, very dark eyes, almost black..." we exchange a quick stare before she turns around to type a few things on her computer.

"She has a butterfly tattooed on the back of her neck." I add for good measure. She stops typing and gives me a quick and apologetic smile over her shoulder. She finally turns back to me after a few seconds -- which seemed more like an eternity -- and places down a piece of paper.

"Please describe what she was wearing, where she was last seen and who was she with before she went missing." she clicks the edge of a pen and presses the inked tip on the paper. I begin to bounce my leg in fast motions.

"Sh-she had a black Adidas shirt, grey sweats and black Vans shoes. She was also wearing a purple bracelet. She was last seen in the kitchen with us, on October 13th, before she went to her boyfriend's house." I chew on my bottom lip as soon as I'm done talking. The officer snaps her head up to me and gives me a look.

"Who's her boyfriend?"

"We don't know him. She's been dating him for not even a month now. His name is Michael, we don't know his last name, his phone number nor his address." I conclude. The woman stands up in a quick motion and walks out the door for a moment. I take the opportunity to take a deep breath.

I roll my head back and exhale all the air left inside of me, my shoulders slowly falling down, releasing all pressure. I rub my face up and down, trying to calm myself the fuck down. I sigh against my fingers, tears threatening to spill. I sniffle a couple of times and shake myself out of my emotions before the officer walks back in the room with two other people.

"Skylar, this is Agent Tucker from the F.B.I. and Officer Johnson from the National Police Forces. They will ask you a couple of questions if that's okay with you?" they all look at me from their piercing - almost devilish - eyes. I fall back in my chair and look up at the ceiling.

-----

I walk out of the room and heave a sigh, making all of my family and friends turn their heads to me. Grayson bounces out of his chair and jogs to me, wrapping his massive arms around my neck as soon as he's close enough to do so. I breathe heavily in his sweatshirt, the material muffling my sobs. We pull away and his wide hands meets my cheek to wipe a tear that has spilled. I close my eyes and press my cheek harder in his palm.

"Are you okay? What did they ask you?" Ethan walks up to us, his hand instinctively running through his hair just like it always does. Grayson's hand leaves my face to slide behind my back and pulls me closer to him.

"Same thing they asked you guys. 'What does she look like, what was she wearing-" I begin but Ethan quickly cuts me off.

"That's bullshit! They're never gonna be able to find her off of that little information! What if she changed clothes at Michael's place? What if-"

"Ethan." mother intercepts him and he instantly shuts his mouth and backs away a few steps. My mom places both of her hands on my shoulders, her fierce blue eyes meeting my regular brown ones.

"You are strong, Skylar. You will get through this. We all will. Please don't cry, baby." she pulls me in an embrace and I sniffle against her shoulder, my weak arms folding around her small frame.