The Disappearing Act(50)
I stare at her words on the screen. She doesn’t even try to explain the absence. And he doesn’t push her on it. But whatever happened in that six-day gap made her change her mind about going home to see him.
The fact that Emily disappeared for six days a month ago and eventually reappeared should give me some kind of reassurance but doesn’t.
I look away from the screen, suddenly aware of the similarities between Emily’s situation and mine. We’re both far from home, separated from friends and family, trying to further our careers, and while Emily was imminently expecting big news I have my own screen test, my own big opportunity, on Monday morning.
Two women on the cusp, waiting to hear about the role of a lifetime—the thought of it sends a shiver through me. I can’t help but wonder what role she was waiting to hear about. I open her mail app and scan through her inbox going back to the sixth of January, the original day she was supposed to receive the news. I click on an email from her agent sent that day.
From: Rogers, Asst
Sent: Monday, January 6, 2021 10:47 AM
To: “Emily Bryant” <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Self Tape: EMILY BRYANT / SUNDAY CLUB
Self-tape received. Great work!
Danny Engels
Office of Bernice Rogers
That’s it? It certainly doesn’t sound like the kind of email an agent would send to someone expecting huge news that day. And it’s not even from her agent, it’s from her agent’s assistant. Which is odd considering, in my experience, agents tend to get pretty hands-on when clients start doing well. I jot down Danny Engels on my list.
I pull up Google and search Sunday Club, the project mentioned in the email subject, just in case that’s the role. A Deadline casting announcement from mid-January pops up and a row of headshots smile back at me, cast and ready to film. This clearly isn’t the job Emily was excited about, it’s just a standard network pilot, a couple of weeks’ filming at most, nothing groundbreaking.
A wave of sadness floods through me as it suddenly occurs to me that she may have made up this potential job entirely—or that the job she’s talking about might not be an acting role at all. She might have been waiting to hear about an entirely different life-changing job. But whatever it is, it features heavily before both disappearances.
I head back to her message app hoping to find messages between Emily and her friend Marla, certain that they must have discussed Emily’s new job.
I don’t find her name anywhere on messages. But as I scroll through I find a relatively recent conversation with an unnamed number. I open the chat.
Fri Jan 1, 12:02am
Happy New Year bish!!! Sad I had to bail. Got to tape tomorrow. Bleurgh! Drink all the drinks for me.
Done
*Hiccup
Lol.
House guy’s not still bothering you, is he?
Nope. Guess he found someone drunker?! Or more ambitious. lol Okay. Well if he comes back, hide. Text me when you get home x Fri Jan 1, 11:48am
What time you finish last night? How are you feeling ?
Fri Jan 1, 3:48pm
That bad huh?
Sat Jan 2, 9:12am
Listen, sorry I bailed on New Year’s. Forgive me? Brunch?
Sat Jan 2, 5:26pm
Sorry Marla. Just seen these.
Not feeling great.
Hahaha! Still?! How much did you drink girl?
Sat Jan 2, 9:57pm
Em, is everything okay?
Sun Jan 3, 8:04am
Can you meet me at the coffee shop?
The piercing ring of the security monitor phone rips my attention from the screen, causing my heart to pound high in my chest as the sound tears through the apartment again, high and insistent.
It’s nearly eleven p.m. I stumble up and head out to the hallway monitor, mildly annoyed at the interruption, but when I see the screen is blank my blood runs cold. Somebody has disabled the security camera and I can’t see who’s standing outside my door.
My mind races as the tone angrily blares again. Lucy must have let someone up without checking—why would she do that, they said they never did that? I edge toward the door’s tiny peephole, possibilities flooding through my head, half expecting to see Cortez, or Joanne, or even Emily on the other side of the door. I pray it’s any one of those people over the possibility that this visitor may be someone else entirely.
I take a breath and lean in to look.
22
When No One Is Looking
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13
My eye focuses through the peephole and I pull up sharply. The hallway is completely empty.
There’s no one there.
The security phone screeches loudly beside me again and I realize what I’ve done. It’s just a call from reception; no one is outside the door. But why isn’t the hall camera working? It usually lights up even for an intercom call.
I lift the receiver and it’s Lucy’s voice I hear.
“Hi, Mia, sorry to bother you this late. We’ve got another package for you down here, it just arrived from Universal, a new script and revised script pages for Monday? They said it’s urgent, but it’s after eleven p.m. on a Saturday so I didn’t know if you’d appreciate a courier or me bringing it up in person this late.”