ARIA

I don't mean to, but the longer Ryder stays gone, the more I worry about him.

Where could he be?

Judging by my calculations and what he told me, Ryder should've been back by now. It's two in the afternoon.

I rub my hands and pace the floor of the living area. Occasionally, I peer out the window to stare at the stairs below, hoping to spot him. At this point, I don't know what's instinct and what's paranoia.

I have this strong feeling that something is wrong but I don't want to ...