Queen of Nothing

29. i'm sorry. i love you

The sky had swapped out the sun for the moon by the time I'd found the strength to leave the garage. By the time I'd replaced my sorrow for anger. 

Rage was good, it was fresh like fuel, stripping me down to my emotions and then corralling me into action. I marched into the dining room to see a note that I hadn't noticed earlier. On it, a few words were sprawled. 

I'm sorry. I love you. I really did try this time. 

I ripped the note to shreds, tossed it in the waste bin. Then, I took the stairs, two at a time, tearing my room apart in search of that sliver of paper that I'd flung aside days ago. 

"C'mon," I muttered to myself, "where is it?" I tore through my laundry bin, dug through jeans pockets, all but turned my room upside down when I'd struck gold. 

I almost whooped in relief as I held the piece of paper with my father's number on it. 

I held it in my hands, feeling the quiver of anxiety go through me as I punched in the numbers on my phone. There was no time for fear, no time for deliberation on the past. I was going to hold Gia to her promises, even if it ended me. 

The phone rang a couple times before disconnecting. I frowned, and punched the numbers in again, almost dropping the phone in surprise when someone answered, 

"Hello? Who is this?" It was a female voice, and at at the sound, something seized in my stomach. 

"Oh," I responded, "Can I speak to a Shankar Dasari?" 

The woman paused, "Mahi?" 

I didn't respond, and allowed the pregnant silence to fill in the gaps. 

"My name's Anna. I'm your dad's--your dad's not home," she murmured apologetically, "but did you want to call back later? I know he'd be really glad to hear from you." 

I caught the hesitation, took note of the space between the words. I'm your dad's girlfriend, is what she wanted to say, although I suppose the circumstances were weird enough as it were to introduce herself as part of the family. So I trudged on. 

"No," I said, "No that's okay. I just wanted to call and ask if my sister had been in contact with you recently? She'd come to stay with me for a while and as of today morning she's been missing, all of her stuff gone. I'm not really sure what to make of it." 

"She's gone?" She asked, disbelief evident in her tone, "I'm so sorry, Mahi. I didn't know, neither did your father. Have you contacted the police yet?" 

"No," I replied numbly, "I didn't get the chance." 

She paused for a moment and spoke again, "I have an idea. She was staying with some friends in Texas a while ago and I think I had written down the address somewhere...where is it? Shoot, not that...ah! Here we go. Do you have a pen and paper ready?" 

I scrambled for the post it pad on the fridge and a pen, "Yes, go ahead." 

She recited an address in Austin, and I frowned, "Do you have a phone number?" 

"I'm sorry hon, I don't," she responded, "but if you call back in a bit I'm sure your father can also help track her down?" 

"No," I said, "No that's fine. This is all I needed, thanks." 

"I'm sorry that this is happening to you," she replied over the phone, "she's a lovely girl. This isn't like her at all." 

"Actually," I said, "this is exactly like her." 

---

I'd fallen asleep with little determination, having tossed and turned the entire night, until my sheets jumbled into a mess at the base of my feet. I knew it wasn't smart to make any decisions right away, but the longer I mulled over my options, the more real the plans became.