Cold hearted, looking for answers. Those two qualities put together? Never a good outcome.

My footsteps down the hall were the only noises I heard that morning, besides the snoring of my puppy. It didn't worry me too badly. Maybe Mom and Dad were just out too long and got a hotel. Worrying about them won't make them come back any quicker.

"Brandi, come here!" I called as I got out her little bowl. Her puppy food was mushy and canned. The smell was disgusting, but she seemed to enjoy it.

The food plopped out of the metal can and into her light blue bowl. The sound alone almost made me gag. Dogs enjoy this stuff? Props to them. I'd rather die than eat that crud.

As soon as I had called her name, she stumbled over to me and attempted to jump up my body. Before she could succeed, I bent down and placed her bowl on the floor. "There you go, baby girl."

She began gleefully scarfing down the foul smelling food. A smile reached my face as I rubbed her ears and patted her head. I sat down at the counter with some vanilla creamer-drowned coffee. I flipped through the script pages as I sipped my breakfast drink. A few minutes later, my coffee was no longer in my cup. My stomach was filled with the creamy drink instead. I glanced at my watch.

It was already seven-fifteen. Already late for practice.

Crap.

Quickly, I pulled a shirt over my head. My fingers felt around my dresser drawer for a belt I could wear. Anything. I found what I was looking for and quickly shoved the belt through my purple jean belt loops. Before I knew it, I had gotten the rest of the way ready and was in my car.

Too bad the car didn't start.

I groaned and kicked the dashboard. The key inside my ignition was jammed from how hard I had forced it inside. Next time I get a car, I'm getting one that wasn't made thirty years ago. Maybe I'll get better quality.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. With a sigh of frustration, I took my phone out and looked at it. A text from Whitney.

'Where are you? Practice started early!'

Car problems. That's why I'm not there. Totally not because I woke up a bit late. Frantically, I replied to her message and grabbed my school bag. My fat butt needs the exercise anyway. Walking to school. Might be fun.

About ten minutes later, I made it to the front doors of the school. My feet hurt - bad day to wear my flats - and my stomach was practically screaming for food. It wasn't like I could do anything about either of them.

I knocked on the choir room doors, and they quickly swung open. I caught a glimpse of bright red hair in the window of the door. Whitney.

"Where were you?" Whitney asked in a hushed voice, grabbing my wrist and yanking me into the room. It wasn't an empty, quiet room. Quite the opposite.

The musical practice room was just the high school choir room. It was large, and at the moment held about thirty kids, all here for early morning practice. All of the students were in their friend groups, waiting for practice to start officially.

Before I could reply, the musical director clapped his hands. "Alright! We needs the lead roles to the front, in scene three position!"

Everybody quickly scrambled around the room. Whitney pushed me up to the front, and I hastily found my position on the tape. Soon enough, everybody was in their places, and Scene Three Run-Through began. Starting with me.

School that day started out slow. Mid-Term finals were beginning next week. All the teachers were doing their best to prepare us, meaning no real work or homework. Any normal student would be relieved, but all the work makes the days pass faster. No work? Slow days.

First and second period were both English. I'm in the year advanced class, so we have even less work on a normal basis. With Mid-Terms coming up, it is as close to a free period as we get. Myentire class was either reading or on their phones all class.

Me? I was reading over my scripts, trying to memorize them. Trying. Memorizing scripts never was my specialty, but I always end up on the good side. Or something. We'll see what happens.

Twenty minutes into second period English, the teacher left the room. One of the boys in my class, Joey, jumped up and flipped his desk.

"She's gone! She's gone!" he yelled with a grin. Several other boys started snickered, while the girls rolled their eyes. Everybody refused to get involved.

Except for me, of course.

Gently, I slid the script back into my folder. I stood up and walked over to Joey. "Stop yelling."

He stuck his tongue out at me. "No way, Jess. I'll do what I want." Just to prove his point, he flipped me off. His face looked proud.

Like the other girls, I rolled my eyes and went back to my seat. I'd rather not get involved if he gets in trouble. That'll be his problem.

Instead of going back to my script, I looked around the room silently. The room had low ceilings, so all the tall guys had issues. The room always felt cramped and stuffy. This day was no different. Joey had his desk flipped, and his work papers were scattered all over the floor. He was so going to be in trouble with Mrs. Adams, the dean.

A knock on the door made the room go completely silent. Nobody got up, so I ended up being the one to open the door. I was surprised at what I saw. It was a police officer, dressed in full uniform. His badge made me think he was a sheriff.

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked, tilting my head to look up at him. He was tall. Or maybe I'm just short.

The officer nodded, shifting his utility belt. Whatever its called, the belt that held his officer equipment. "Yes. Is a Miss Jessica Lennox here?"

"Yes, that's me," I smiled. I did nothing wrong, as far as I know. No need to worry.

Right?

"I'm going to need to take you to the police station. I'll explain on the way."

Behind me, I could imagine all my classmates going ohhhh. Like I was in trouble.

I only nodded. No problem. I'm not in trouble. "Okay."

He gave me a sad smile, patting my shoulder. "Bring your things, alright?"

Am I not coming back?

I did as I was told, and walked back to the officer. After giving him a short nod, he gestured for me to follow him out. I did.

What is going on?