Jackson

Noah’s truck had barely disappeared down the street before I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for an hour.

Jessa was gone.

With Noah.

Alone.

In his truck.

My eye twitched.

Mariah leaned against her car, arms folded, watching me with that smug little smile she always wore when she knew exactly what I was thinking.

“What?” I demanded.

She lifted a brow. “You look like you’re about to file a missing persons report on your own sister.”

...