Karl
“God, Abby, where are you?” | murmur.
I''m driving carefully along the route that Abby would have taken, my knuckles white on the steering wheel as | peer through the
blinding snowstorm. Panic tightens my chest with each passing moment. She should have been back hours ago, and the storm
has only worsened as the time has passed.
“She had to have taken this route,” my wolf exins. “She’s taken it countless times before.”
I sigh. “I know,” | reply out loud. It just doesn’t make sense, though; if Abby had to stay at the shopping center because of the
snowstorm, then she would have called me. The only scenario | can think of where she wouldn''t have called me is if she wound
up somewhere with no service or...
If she’s hurt.
My heart pounds with the thought of that option. | shake my head as if to dispel the thought; no. | won''t believe that Abby’s hurt.
She probably just pulled over somewhere, and I’m bound to find her soon.
Then, as | round a bend, | finally catch sight of a car half-buried in a snow-filled ditch. My heart leaps in my chest when | realize
that it’s the car | loaned Abby earlier. She has to be sitting inside, waiting.
She’s smart enough to know to do that. She knows | would alwayse for her, no matter what.
With a lighter feeling in my chest, | park my own car a safe distance away and trudge through the knee-deep snow towards her
car.
The wind howls around me as | knock on the window. “Abby? It’s me. Are you okay?”
But there’s no response. The car is dark, and the door doesn’t open. | can’t see the interior of the car through the ice, and
thinking that maybe she curled up and fell asleep while waiting for help, | open the door, my breath forming icy clouds.
But then my heart drops.
The car is empty, and my fear spikes. “Abby?” | call out, my voice swallowed by the storm.
There’s no response, and | quickly scan the interior. She’s notying down in the back. All that’s left is a shopping bag sitting on
the back seat and a discarded emergency thermal nket. Her purse is sitting on the passenger seat, and with a frown, | pick it
up and rifle through it.
“Her phone is gone,” | mutter, tossing the bag back down onto the seat. “Wallet, too. Maybe she left?”
Frowning, | straighten up and look around. And then | see it: footprints leading from her car out into the middle of the road.
My heart races as | follow the tracks, my boots sinking into the deep snow. Beside the footsteps, | see tire tracks, and it bes
apparent that someone picked her up. The realization sends a chill down my spine. Abby would never willingly get into a
stranger’s car, especially in weather like this.
But, maybe she really needed help. | shouldn’t just assume the worst right off that bat.
However, | can’t deny the feeling of dread in my stomach as | climb back into my car and follow the quickly-fading tire tracks. |
hope that | find her somewhere, safe and sound, but something tells me that it won’t be that simple.
After what feels like an eternity, | spot the glow of a gas station in the distance. My heart leaps with hope, and | pick up the pace,
my tires skidding through the snow.
| reach the gas station, and the attendant inside looks up as | enter.
“Hey, did you see a womane in here?” | ask, my voice urgent. “About this tall, strawberry blonde hair, wearing a blue
jacket?”
The attendant, a middle-aged man with a worn-out expression, shakes his head. “No, sir, | haven’t seen anyone in here for
hours. This weather’s keeping folks away.”
I run a hand through my hair, my frustration building. “Are you sure? It’s important. She might be in danger.”
The attendant’s expression softens, and he leans forward, his voice lowered. “Look, I’ve been here all night, and no one’se
in. I;d have noticed, especially in this storm. Maybe she found shelter somewhere else.”
My heart sinks, and | thank the man before heading back out into the storm. The tire tracks from whatever car Abby got into are
barely visible now, covered by a freshyer of snow. | curse under my breath, my mind racing for a n.
| climb into my car and start the engine, hoping that maybe | can pick up her trail again. The snowfall shows no signs of letting
up, and my anxiety only grows. | drive slowly, scanning the sides of the road for any clues.
What feels like hours but is really only a few minutes passes, and there’s still no sign of Abby or the vehicle that took her. The tire
tracks have disappeared entirely, swallowed by the relentless snowstorm. Desperation gnaws at me, and | realize that | need
help.
| spot another gas station up ahead and pull into the parking lot. This time, there’s a different attendant behind the counter, a
young woman with a tired expression.
I rush inside, my breathsing fast. “Please, have you seen a woman?” | blurt out without preamble. “She might havee in
here recently.”
The attendant looks up, her eyes widening as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “I haven’t seen anyone, sir. Is everything
okay?”This is property ? N?velDrama.Org.
| shake my head, my voice tight with worry. “No, it’s not. She went off the road in the storm, and | think someone picked her up.”
The attendant’s expression shifts to one of concern, and she leans closer. “Tell me everything you know. Maybe | can help.”
| quickly exin the situation, from
finding Abby''s car in the itcPtothia
ti regteeaanoavey he
a dh ant listens intently, her eyes
thoughtful. Please read the original
content at NovelDrama.Org.
“Listen,” she says, “it’s possible that someone picked her up. But | haven’t seen anyonee in here all night, not with this
storm.”
As she speaks, | let out a soft curse under my breath.
“Should | call the police, sir?” the attendant asks.
| almost nod, but then realize that the
snowstorm is so bad there’s no wa
the police are sient paake itOGd here
fy eet So, instead, |
shake my head and pull my jacket
closer around my shoulders,
preparing to go back out into the
cold. Please read the original content
at NovelDrama.Org.
“I''ll find her,” | say, taking onest look at the attendant.”
The attendant, realizing my predicament, nods. “What''s her name, just in case?” she asks, shooting me a quizzical look.
“Abby. Tell her to stay here, and that Karl is looking for her.”
Before | can gauge the attendant''’s
response, I’m already pushing ba
out into the snow wheahetshizzard
Hasn''det dp''one bit. | take a moment,
staring down the dark, snow-covered
road, my heart pounding in my chest.
Please read the original content at
NovelDrama.Org.
| don’t know where Abby could have gone, but | know one thing: if | don’t find her very soon, she might be in grave danger.