*Chapter one has been update! To get the full scoop on what's happened so far, please read chapter one!

2. Chase's disappearance

Kristen fastened the last button of her black blouse, adjusting the pencil skirt and looking at herself in the mirror. It had been three days since Chase's parents had died, three days since he'd spent the night at her house.

His heavy breath against her neck, his body pressed against hers… hands caressing her naked breasts.

Her breath had quickened at the thought of that night. She was anxious to see him; knew that it would be a hard day for him with the burial of his parents. He had been dealing with relatives for the past few days, his aunt and uncle had arrived the day after his parent's death's to make further funeral arrangements.

She signed as she glanced out the window. The sun was peeking through the clouds, but she knew any minute it would rain.

It always rains when there is a funeral, she thought.

Kristen pulled the rain jacket off her bed and slung it over her shoulder. She took one last look in the mirror before exiting her room.

As Kristen opened the passenger door and stood up, she faced a large cemetery, with a larger gathering of people almost in the middle of it. She strained a faint smile, realizing that the Collins were a beloved couple of the community. As she closed the door, and waited for her father, Kristen's eyes were darting through the people to see if she could spot Chase. With no luck, both she and her father started forward toward the crowd.

Upon approaching the crowd, she spotted him, heaving a huge sigh.

Relief? She asked herself. Gladness?

His eyes met hers, and though his mouth didn't smile, his eyes did. She walked around the hoards of people and squeezed herself right behind him. He grabbed her hand and held onto it tight.

As the preacher spoke, his grip became firmer with each passing word. He pulled her closer to him, until she was right next to him. They just stood there, holding onto each other.

"…Thank you all for coming…."

Chase let go of Kristen's hand while he shook those of people who had come to pay their condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Kristen tried to hold back tears as she realized she had to say a final goodbye to the two people that had been like second-parents to her.

"Kris?" His voice echoed in her ears. His hand was on her shoulder.

"I'll take her home Mr. Belflurr." Chase said.

He came into her eye sight, but was only a vague outline. Her eyes had filled with tears and were cascading down her milk-white cheeks.

"Heyy…" Chase wrapped his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's ok…." He stroked her hair softly.

He's pretty calm for his parent's just dying. She thought. But, maybe he's prepared himself for this..maybe he handles things differently?

She pulled away from him and wiped away her tears. She smiled faintly.

"Are you ok?" she asked. His face was blank.

"…sure." He finally responded, pulling her close again. His body was stiff, not as relaxed as it had been a few moments before. Kristen pulled away again.

"Chase. What's wrong?" she looked at him, saw his eyes change to black.

"Nothing." His quick, agitated response threw her off-guard. His eyes were looking out behind her, at the landscape of Boston. Kristen's hand touched his cheek gently, bringing his face towards hers. She pressed her lips to his softly, and felt his response.

"We to go," he pulled away, looking at her. "Aunt and Uncle are making a dinner for everyone…" he half-smiled and moved away from her. Kristen couldn't tell if he was just bottling up his sadness, or if it was something else… She felt a tear well in her eye as confusing struck her.

Chase looked over at Kristen, her face pale as newly fallen snow, her eyes bright but concerned, and confused. He moved back toward her and kissed her gently, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

"It's ok," he whispered into her neck. She nodded slowly in response. Chase kissed her forehead.

" Come on," he took her hand and lead he in the direction of a black, sleek Mercedes.

Chase pulled up to the front of Kristen's house. A small two story Victorian set atop a hill, built in the mid-1800s. It was white with big bay windows over-looking the houses below, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

He leaned over and kissed Kristen as she reached for the door handle.

"I'll call you later," he smiled faintly at her, and she exited the car. As she watched him drive away, it started to rain.

The pillow felt hard underneath her cheek, a small wet spot was located just under her mouth. Her head felt light, and nauseated as if she'd just woken from a 10-year slumber.

How long have I been asleep? Her eyes opened to slits, revealing the dark room around her. She could hear the soft sound of rain hitting the windows. She moved her hand, what felt like a slow-motion, and touched her forehead, trying to make some sense of time.

She recalled walking up the stairs after Chase had dropped her off, how she'd wandered into the front room of her house and had slowly ascended the stairs having felt drained completely from the emotional funeral.

She rolled over slowly, trying to spot her alarm clock.

3:17 a.m.

She rubbed her eyes and refocused.

3:18 a.m.

She slowly sat up realizing she'd been asleep for roughly twelve hours. She grabbed the cell phone off her night stand, wondering if she'd slept through Chase's phone call. As she flipped through her call log, she realized there was nothing from him. No missed call. No voicemail. No text message. Nothing.

Maybe he got caught up with everything going on after the funeral that he forgot? She wondered. Maybe it was late by the time he was free and just decided not to call?

But, she knew Chase, and knew that he kept to his word.

Usually he leaves a text if it's late and he thinks I'm in bed… She browsed through her text mailbox at all of the recent messages exchanged between them.

She quickly raced to the reply line of an old message and sent him a message.

Heyy. Awake now, in case you tried to call earlier.

She set her phone down, waiting for the sound that signified the message had been received by his phone. But nothing came over; the only sound in the room was the window being repeatedly beat by the downpour of water outside.

Maybe he turned off his phone?

She laid her head back on her pillow trying to count sheep and see if she could induce her body into REM again.

1 day later:

"Heyy… Just wondering if everything's ok…Call me."

3 days later:

"Chase… are you ok?...haven't heard from you since the funeral…. Are you ok?"

1 week later:

"What's going on? Chase, where are you?... Chase, I'm really worried about you."