I nodded.
He read the messages without expression.
“Do we answer?” I asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “Not yet. Silence is information. Let him show us who he becomes when he loses control of the script.”
By dawn, Elias had called seventeen times.
He left six voicemails.
The first one was confused and soft.
“Baby, where are you? I came upstairs and you weren’t there. I thought maybe you were joking, but it’s been an hour. Call me, okay?”
The second sounded irritated.
“Ella, come on. This is embarrassing. Mom is upset. Brenda’s still around because she was helping us, and now everyone thinks something happened.”
In the third, he was worried again.
“Please just tell me you’re safe.”
By the fifth, he had become someone else.
“If this is about nerves, you need to talk to me like an adult. You can’t just disappear on our wedding night.”
