I knew I should have probably felt annoyed by the disorder. But I felt oddly comforted by it. The apartment felt more, I don't know, lived in. It felt like a family was there, that they sometimes got busy enjoying themselves so much that they forgot to pick up after themselves.
"It's only been a week," I reminded them. "But Avi seems to like her. I haven't spent much time with her."
Not since that first night when I'd shared too much with her over cold Chinese food. She'd shared some things as well, enough that I understood why she had such a prickly demeanor. She'd practically raised herself. And I could relate to that more than I cared to admit.
"How is Avi?" Gigi asked.
"He's been open with Alessa. Still shutting me out, but he seems to talk with her. He's always hanging with her when I get home. Then goes off to his room."
"He'll come around," Gigi assured me. "It might just be easier to open up to someone new."
I was worried about him still, about our seemingly strained relationship, but I hadn't noticed swollen, red eyes in the mornings anymore. He might have still cried. And I hoped he did. But he wasn't doing it for so long and so hard that his eyes were just small slits the next day.
It wouldn't happen overnight.
Small changes were all I could expect for a while.
Each one of them was a step in the right direction.
Avi's grief would be lifelong.
But I hoped the edges of it would dull, would stop slicing him whenever he wanted to run his hand against the memories of his mother.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Are we done here? I haven't been home for dinner in two days," I explained. "I don't want to become an absent father."
"Yeah, go. See your kid. Tell him I'll see him Sunday. I'll call if we find anything."
"Great. Thanks," I said, getting up, making my way out, then rushing across town toward my apartment.
I'd been a busy man before Brit's death. I ran a business that demanded a lot from me. Now, though, I had to add Family business on top of that, while trying to catch up on the time I'd taken off after her murder to handle arrangements and taking care of Avi.
I needed to work on finding a better work/life balance. Maybe once Avi was back in school, I could have Alessa stay over at night to see him off to school in the morning, so I could head into the office early, then come home in the late afternoon to be home for my kid.
There would be times when I couldn't. And times when Lorenzo would need me. But at least Avi would see that I was trying, that I was making him a priority. That was what mattered.
"Avi?" I called, walking into the apartment. "Av? Alessa?" I called, finding no one in the common areas, or the rooms.
Curious, I made my way to the island where Alessa would write notes if she was running out.
No note.
No note and no text.
Concern unfurled in my stomach as I dialed Alessa's number, listened to it ring, then heard it go to voicemail.
Over and over and over again.
"Fuck," I hissed, rushing through the apartment again, looking for any signs of foul play.
There was nothing out of place. Well, nothing unusual out of place.
Anxiety thumping through my system, I opened the app that stored the camera footage from the apartment building.
I could see Alessa and Avi heading out of the apartment. I actually paused the video and zoomed in, thinking I was seeing things. But sure enough, that was a giant grin on Avi's face as he looked at Alessa.
I caught them going down the elevator, then out the building, and into a cab.
That was it.
Then where were they?
Why wasn't she answering her phone?
I should have put one of those fucking tracking devices on Avi. Attached it to his shoe or something. I'd laughed when Lorenzo had suggested it, but now I was regretting not taking every possible precaution.
"Yo?" Lorenzo said, sounding half-distracted.
"Do you have any way to trace a phone? I got home and Avi and Alessa aren't here. Saw them leave on the cameras, but she's not answering. I've called like eight times."
"Shit. Alright. I'll look into it. Call Gio while I do. See if he can track her. If they're on the same plan or something, he probably can."
"Right. Thanks."
"Keep me posted."
"Will do," I agreed, hanging up, then calling Gio from the list of contacts Alessa had left.
"Gio," he answered.
"Gio, this is Santi. Do you have a way of tracking your sister's phone? She's not answering," I told him.
"Fuck. Alright. Yeah. Let me hang up and call you back," he said.
Neither of us bothered to say goodbye. And I waited with a twisting stomach for his call.