"Don't panic, let's think—where would she possibly go?"
Monica tried her best to comfort Beth and Whitney.
"I don't know. I don't know. Lorna's very introverted—she would never just not come back all night."
Beth was nearly incoherent. Monica stood nearby, trying to think of all possible explanations.
"Did you ask the front desk?"
"No."
"Let's check with them."
Owen, staying calm, was the one who thought of going to the front desk.
The group headed downstairs. The bespectacled man from before was still manning the reception. Beth asked anxiously, "Excuse me, our roommate—Lorna—have you seen her?"
"Please wait a moment, I'll check..."
The man flipped through a record book page by page, then pointed to an entry. "Found it—your friend checked out and left this morning."
"What?"
"She checked out—this entry is from just this morning."
He pointed at the record with a calm tone. Sure enough, it clearly showed that Lorna had checked out.
Everyone exchanged glances. Beth and Whitney, especially, were stunned. Something didn't feel right. Lorna would never have left on her own. She was shy, timid, and would never just leave without a word.
"No… no, this can't be…"
"Maybe try calling her?" the clerk offered helpfully.
Beth dialed, but it just went to voicemail.
"I'm sorry, I just came on shift. But that's what the record shows."
He shrugged.
"Let's go look for her—maybe she got drunk somewhere?" Monica suggested.
The group left the inn and began searching nearby streets and alleys, hoping Lorna had indeed just passed out somewhere.
Owen, however, couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the inn. Lorna "checking out" just didn't sit right. His mind flashed back to Amanda's experience in Paris. Could this place also be involved in human trafficking?
He glanced discreetly at the receptionist, but the man's expression was perfectly normal—nothing seemed off.
They searched the surrounding area thoroughly but found no sign of Lorna. Coincidentally, they ran into two of the three "hookup guys" from the party—their friend, the Icelandic guy, had also vanished.
Now Owen was seriously baffled. He'd heard of women and children being trafficked—but men too? Was he just being paranoid?
But it kept getting stranger. Two people disappearing at once—and the front desk claiming both had checked out? That was too much of a coincidence.
Everyone realized something was off and decided to report it to the police.
They learned that the police station was northwest of town, and hurried in that direction. But as they passed under a small railway bridge, they found themselves blocked at both ends.
The people blocking them held sticks, but they were small in stature. With the backlight, Owen couldn't see their faces clearly.
As they drew closer, he realized—it was the child gang.
The one in front was the same kid who had demanded money the night before.
"Dollar!"
Just like last time, the boy reached out, palm open. The other kids stood silently, gripping sticks and staring coldly.
Seeing it was just a group of kids, the others were ready to push through, thinking they weren't in any real danger.
But Owen and Monica stopped them.
They had seen what this gang was capable of. These kids were cold, ruthless, and completely desensitized to violence.
Worse, if any of them tried to fight back and hurt one of the kids, the townspeople would likely turn on them.
"Hold on. Listen to me. Don't resist. Just give them money…"
Monica calmly pulled out a 5-euro note. She only had euros—no dollars.
Surprisingly, the kids weren't picky. As long as they got some money, they let the group pass.
The child gang laughed and ran off, but everyone else was left dumbfounded. Being mugged by children—it was surreal.
"Beth, where are you guys headed? I was just about to look for you—we talked about this yesterday…"
The voice came from Elikxil.
The tall, model-esque woman smiled, but upon seeing their grim expressions, she asked, "What's wrong?"
"Elikxil, Lorna is missing. She never came back last night. That guy they were with—the one from Iceland—is missing too. We can't reach them. Their phones are off. We're really worried."
Seeing a local familiar face made Beth feel like she'd found a lifeline.
"Oh, I see. Don't worry too much. Our cell signal here is poor—lots of places you just can't get through. It's normal.
As for staying out all night, that's common here. You saw how welcoming people were at the party. Maybe they got lucky—someone invited them to stay the night."
Elikxil smiled comfortingly.
"But…"
"Have you checked the inn and nearby areas?"
"We did, but the front desk said they both checked out. That doesn't make any sense."
"Oh, that's probably a mistake. The guy at the desk is often careless. Don't worry—our town has excellent public safety."
Elikxil's words left everyone speechless. Excellent public safety? Really? They had just been mugged by a child gang.
"You're headed to the police station?"
"Yes."
"Alright, I'll come with you—I know some of the officers."
With Elikxil's help, they quickly reached the tiny police station. There were only six officers in total. Elikxil introduced them to one officer in particular.
"Officer Brook, these are some friends of mine. Two of their companions didn't return last night."
"Yes, we can't reach them at all…"
"And the front desk said they both checked out—it doesn't make sense…"
Everyone explained their situation. Officer Brook, an unattractive but polite middle-aged man, listened patiently.
Once they finished, he looked around at them and said, "I'm sorry, folks. Our town is still a bit backward, and the cell service isn't great.
As for your friends, I agree with Elikxil. They probably stayed over at someone's house. The check-out must have been a clerical error.
I suggest you return to the inn and wait. They might already be back. In the meantime, I'll ask around with the local taxi drivers. If they left, they'd have to take a cab to the train station.
If they don't show up by this afternoon, I'll file an official report. Sound good?"
Brook's words sounded reasonable—he seemed sincerely trying to help. Beth didn't know what else to do. She was about to respond when both her phone and one of the hookup guys' phones buzzed.
They had received text messages.
Beth opened hers—it was a photo of Lorna and the Icelandic guy standing close together. Underneath was a message: "We left early—don't worry about us."
When had those two gotten together?
Beth was angry now. Lorna had gone off with a guy and didn't even say a word, leaving everyone worried sick.
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