Chapter 3 THE ARGUMENT

I stare blankly at my computer. My intention was to write an article about my missing sister and rekindle the insecurities and unrequited questions of the netizens about the mysteries once again, but my mind is blank, or maybe something strong is holding me back. Something strong is warning me about this.

I cruise my eyes around the small room. My small office in my house is decorated with photos of my missing sister. My best friend. My only sibling. The only family I ever knew and had.

'Where on earth are you, Stacy? Please help me find you.' I murmur to myself

'TOMORROW. 9 AM. HERE.'

The words ring in my head again, just like they did the whole night and the whole of today too. I stare at the paper again, rereading the words for the...

It is about an hour away from the auspicious nine after midday, but it feels like an eternity. I can't wait to find out the meaning of this message. What is happening at the casino tonight? What was that girl trying to tell me?

"Are you sure about this, Irma?" Mary asks, setting a cup of steaming coffee before me and sitting across from me.

"You can stay back if you want, Mary. I can do this alone." I respond, taking a sip of my coffee, which does not relax me like it usually does.

"Honestly, I have given it a lot of thought." I bank my curiosity on her as she continues, "I don't think you should go. You don't even know this lady. Everyone has been scared to death to give you even a slight bit of information, except this unknown lady. Don't you find it strange?" Mary says.

I furrow my brows, her words hitting the wrong side of me. Strange? The only thing I see here is a chance to find something, anything, about what happened to my sister. And at this point, even the tiniest bit of clue is crucial. So what she is trying to tell me hurts. "Look, I am not letting even a slight opportunity pass at this given time. I have not rested for two good freaking weeks, so however dangerous this is, I am going through with it." I retort.

She scoffs, throwing her hands in the air as if my turmoils and desperation mean nothing to her, "And what if this is a trap, huh? Have you thought about this whole thing from that perspective?"

"You can't say that for sure, too," I retort, and she now getting on my nerves. She has been with me all this time, so I expect her to be spontaneous and say, "Everything hangs on a 50-50 balance. And I am leaning on the positive side. I will take all the risks to find my sister, even if it means confronting death itself."

She narrows her eyes, looking at me with a rich tinge of disapproval. "I can't believe this," she sighs, trying to cloak her disapproval, but I am neither blind nor foolish. I can see it no matter how much she is trying to play it cool: "I am your friend, Irma, and..."

"And as my friend," I cut her off in anger, "I expect you to at least understand where I am coming from and why I have to do this. At least try to be understanding, if not supportive. You are beginning to sound and act like Dan, and I don't like it." I state this because Dan is another story for another day.

"What if we are right?" She asks. "What if this isn't the way to tackle this? Irma, what if that message means nothing, or worse, poses danger for you?"

"I said that I was taking all the risks," I state boldly, because there is no way I will buy her reasoning. I think I am the only one who understands the weight of losing my sister. Neither my friend nor my boyfriend understands me anymore. "I am going to that casino, and no one will stop me!" I state.

"Not even me?" Mary and I snap at the door where Dan, my cold, despotic boyfriend, racks. "What message are you talking about and where exactly are you going?"

I am not surprised at the sharp arrows of his menacing gazes at me as he draws near. We are no longer the couple that we used to be. We are no longer the people who were planning our wedding. Everything changed when my sister disappeared because he does not agree one bit with what I am doing. Sometimes I wonder if he even understands the grief I am going through.

"Hi, Daniel!" Mary courteously greets him, but the arrogant jerk doesn't even respond as he stands in front of me across the table.

He can be an annoying, egotistical jerk if he decides to be one. I still adore him, though. Deep inside, behind his haughtiness and beneath the coldness he emanates, lies a man whom I see a bright future with. That is, if he can put aside his egotism and display a modicum of empathy for what is happening to me right now.

His eyes are daring. They are emitting fire as they thrive deep into mine, and I avert them as I spring to my feet. I walk around the table with open arms to hug my boyfriend and sample a little bit of solace. But to my dismay, he raises a hand to stop me and takes two steps back to avoid my hug.

I suddenly halt in a stupor! I feel my bones tingle with an unfamiliar chill. I am petrified, and weirdly, the ground beneath me quakes.

We disagree on many things, notably this one, and have had endless disagreements. However, he never even once treated me in such a manner. His icy disposition was seldom to this extreme. I sag my shoulders in defeat and push down the choking pile that is obstructing my throat.

"Hun..."

"You still haven't answered my question, Irma! What is happening tonight?" He queries in a harsh tone that I don't like.

Is it Irma now? What in God's name happened to babe, my love, and all those sweet names he used to call me?

I took a deep breath to soothe my disorganized mind.

"I am going to the club. I found something that I think might lead me somewhere in my search for Stacy." I explain.

All I get in response is a frustrated glare as if I said something that riled his internal cool. Or some absurdity that makes no sense at all.

He slams his coat on the seat, scraping his head slightly before speaking.

"How many times have I told you to leave this to the authorities, huh? Why are you obstinate and bent on going against my warning?" He speaks in burst ire.

His outraged demeanor. His eyes, which are burning red. The menacing manner in which he calculates his movements as he draws closer to me. All of it is perplexing and perturbing.

"The police aren't doing anything to help, and you know it, Dan. I am not surprised about their incompetence because they haven't done anything plausible in their previous disappearances. But this is different. It is my sister's life that we are talking about here. I will not rest until I know where she is." I state, and he gives me a smirk that strokes my demons.

How annoying can he get, honestly? It is fine if he does not agree with my approach to rescuing my sister, but how dare he laugh at me at this time? What is so humorous in my despair that he has to smirk?

"You are going way out of line, and I am scared of what will happen to you in the course of this madness!"

Shock and anger strike me off guard, his words hanging in my head like a cloud. Madness? This, what I am doing to find my missing sister, is madness to him? How dare he? "I don't like your tone or your choice of words, Dan!" I state.

He takes a step closer, and for a minute I was beguiled to think that he said that out of anger and worry for me, but that was until he spoke again. "And I hate how you are going about this whole thing!" He roars. So unapologetic. "You are a mere journalist, Irma, not a police officer! If you want to do something, your articles are more than enough, and what you have gathered so far is even more than enough. Stick to your lane and leave the rest to the police." His voice is cold enough to make me tremble.

And I am trembling for real. Why is he getting so worked up? Does he care this much for me, or is there some deeper meaning to his reaction?

"It is my only sister's life at stake here, Dan! If it were you in my shoes, would you be seated down with arms crossed, doing nothing?" I fume calmly into his nose.

That is how close we are, and the heat is burning pretty high. There has always been heat between us, but today it's burning differently. This is not the fire of our burning love, but the fire of the rift growing between us. And it's worrying.