Cynthia's side of the call was a mess. There was noise everywhere, some voices

even sounded like they were shouting. Cynthia was out of breath, saying something to someone nearby, not even noticing that Emily had picked up.

Emily waited, then spoke calmly, "Hello, is everything okay?"

That seemed to snap Cynthia back to reality. Her voice rushed out, "Emily, I know you're there. Tell me, is Tristan with you?"

"He's not," Emily answered.

Cynthia's voice shot up, "That can't be. None of us can find him. He has to be with you."

So Tristan really hadn't gone back to them?

Emily kept her tone steady. "Someone just came by and said he had something to do. I honestly have no idea where he is."

Cynthia muttered, almost to herself, "That's impossible. Then where did he go?"

Emily started to frown. "What's going on? Is he missing?"

"Yeah,” Cynthia said, sounding worried. “We can't find him anywhere. He wasn't feeling well earlier, could barely walk straight. I figured he was drunk, so I took him back to a room. I went out to get him something for the hangover, but when I came back, he was gone. I just... I'm worried, you know? Wandering around like that, anything could happen."

Cynthia paused, then pressed again, "Emily, you're sure he isn't with you?"

Emily's frown deepened. “He's really not. I'll try calling him right now."

Cynthia still sounded unconvinced, mumbling as she said, "Alright. Let me know if you hear anything."

Emily hung up, already dialing Tristan as she stepped out of her room.

The call rang a few times, then went straight to voicemail. She closed her door behind her and stood there, scanning the quiet hallway, trying to guess where Tristan might have wandered off to.

Suddenly, she remembered the waiter who had brought her dinner earlier. Maybe he'd seen Tristan.

With that in mind, Emily started

heading toward the service area,et

The

phone still pressed to her ear.. ringtone buzzed quietly as her steps sank into the thick hallway carpet.

Then, a faint sound caught her attention from one of the rooms.

She stopped, listening. The noise came from the room right next to hers-1305.

Emily stared at the door, the phone still ringing in her ear. The hotel was known for its soundproof rooms. Usually, once a door closed, nothing got through. But this door wasn't fully shut. A narrow gap left just barely ajar.

Through that thin crack, the sounds from inside spilled out just enough to reach her.

There were voices. A man's and a woman's.

A chill ran through her. She didn't move, just watched that sliver of space in the doorway as her call eventually disconnected.

In a hotel, things like this weren't unusual. People came and went, sometimes with company.

Still, a strange, uneasy feeling twisted in her stomach. Her breathing felt heavier as she reached for the door, fingers brushing against the cool surface, then stopping.

The noises from inside were low, intimate, but she couldn't quite catch the words. Suddenly, she hesitated.

What if she was wrong? If she

opened the door and it wasn't what

she was thinking, she would be

intruding on someone's privacy The thought made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Emily waited for a moment, then slowly pulled her hand back. She looked down, dialing Tristan's number again.

Suddenly, a woman's voice floated clearly through the crack, soft and sweet, tinged with desire. "Mr. Davis, don't..."

There was no mistaking what was happening inside that room.