email address or at (0718) 454 2319.
Regards,
Grace Harris
Grace awoke and began what had now become a new ritual. After checking her phone for news from Kirsty, she turned on the TV for background noise, then she showered quickly and dressed. After a quick breakfast in a smart little cafe down the street from the hotel, it was time for her to go back to the internet cafe.
The old man smirked as Grace pulled her sleeves over her hands, ready to face the communal computers. She started with the responses to her email about Kirsty. Although there were a lot of well wishes among the out of office messages, no one provided any pertinent information that might help her find out where Kirsty had last been.
She pulled the crumpled list of Facebook friends from her bag. Kirsty’s profile hadn’t been updated since she’d last checked. Grace noticed the photos at the top of the page: a smiling sunburned Kirsty at the beach, in the mountains... She clicked on one of the photos for a closer look. She hadn’t thought of looking through them before, probably because she seldom used Facebook herself. She was definitely getting a crash-course now, she thought.
Grace marvelled at how Kirsty could have appeared in hundreds of pictures when she’d only left two months before. She clicked on the last photo of her friend’s leaving party and began to work through them from there.
From: Richard Jones
To: Grace Harris
Hi Grace,
I have just received your email about Kirsty. I haven’t heard from her, apart from an email she sent a couple of weeks ago. She was in Malaysia, heading for Vietnam, but I’m sure you received the same message.
Let me know if there’s anything I can do. My sister’s husband is Thai and I’m sure he’d be happy to help if you need assistance speaking to the police there.
Best Regards,
Richard Jones
From: Daniel Lane
To: Grace Harris
Grace,
Re. Your email about Kirsty. I’ve been getting emails from her every now and again but haven’t heard from her in about a week or so. We split up before she left, as I’m sure you know.
I know there’s not much I can do from here but let me know if there’s any way I can help.
Daniel
Grace’s eyes ached after she’d studied one hundred or so of the photos. Kirsty looked so happy relaxing on beaches and abseiling down cliff-faces. Grace swallowed a fleeting feeling of envy: here she was running around trying to convince the police that her friend was in trouble, and Kirsty was probably having the time of her life somewhere with all of her new friends.
On her list, Grace had noted any places mentioned in the photos those friends appeared in. She had gotten to pictures of Vietnam, but Grace still had a lot to sift through. She started to notice a tall, muscular, blonde man in the most of the more recent pictures, wrapped around Kirsty in front of mystical rocky outcrops and in frenetic markets, both of them grinning like children. He’s the ‘sexy boy’ that girl mentioned , Grace realised. She could tell from Kirsty’s expressions in the photos that he was more to her than just a travel buddy. She couldn’t understand why Kirsty hadn’t mentioned him to her.
She created a new message, and added the names of Kirsty’s new friends to the recipient list.
Hi,
You recently added my friend Kirsty Anderson on Facebook. I haven’t heard from her in some time, and this isn’t like her. If you could reply and let me know when you last saw her, I’d really appreciate it.
Grace Harris
Standing up from the computer and stretching, she looked at the old man and gestured at her papers. He nodded: she’d been coming here for days now, and he could tell, even without any common language, that something wasn’t right. She rubbed her eyes and crossed the street to the busy little noodle stand.
To: Grace Harris
Regards,
Grace Harris
Grace awoke and began what had now become a new ritual. After checking her phone for news from Kirsty, she turned on the TV for background noise, then she showered quickly and dressed. After a quick breakfast in a smart little cafe down the street from the hotel, it was time for her to go back to the internet cafe.
The old man smirked as Grace pulled her sleeves over her hands, ready to face the communal computers. She started with the responses to her email about Kirsty. Although there were a lot of well wishes among the out of office messages, no one provided any pertinent information that might help her find out where Kirsty had last been.
She pulled the crumpled list of Facebook friends from her bag. Kirsty’s profile hadn’t been updated since she’d last checked. Grace noticed the photos at the top of the page: a smiling sunburned Kirsty at the beach, in the mountains... She clicked on one of the photos for a closer look. She hadn’t thought of looking through them before, probably because she seldom used Facebook herself. She was definitely getting a crash-course now, she thought.
Grace marvelled at how Kirsty could have appeared in hundreds of pictures when she’d only left two months before. She clicked on the last photo of her friend’s leaving party and began to work through them from there.
From: Richard Jones
To: Grace Harris
Hi Grace,
I have just received your email about Kirsty. I haven’t heard from her, apart from an email she sent a couple of weeks ago. She was in Malaysia, heading for Vietnam, but I’m sure you received the same message.
Let me know if there’s anything I can do. My sister’s husband is Thai and I’m sure he’d be happy to help if you need assistance speaking to the police there.
Best Regards,
Richard Jones
From: Daniel Lane
To: Grace Harris
Grace,
Re. Your email about Kirsty. I’ve been getting emails from her every now and again but haven’t heard from her in about a week or so. We split up before she left, as I’m sure you know.
I know there’s not much I can do from here but let me know if there’s any way I can help.
Daniel
Grace’s eyes ached after she’d studied one hundred or so of the photos. Kirsty looked so happy relaxing on beaches and abseiling down cliff-faces. Grace swallowed a fleeting feeling of envy: here she was running around trying to convince the police that her friend was in trouble, and Kirsty was probably having the time of her life somewhere with all of her new friends.
On her list, Grace had noted any places mentioned in the photos those friends appeared in. She had gotten to pictures of Vietnam, but Grace still had a lot to sift through. She started to notice a tall, muscular, blonde man in the most of the more recent pictures, wrapped around Kirsty in front of mystical rocky outcrops and in frenetic markets, both of them grinning like children. He’s the ‘sexy boy’ that girl mentioned , Grace realised. She could tell from Kirsty’s expressions in the photos that he was more to her than just a travel buddy. She couldn’t understand why Kirsty hadn’t mentioned him to her.
She created a new message, and added the names of Kirsty’s new friends to the recipient list.
Hi,
You recently added my friend Kirsty Anderson on Facebook. I haven’t heard from her in some time, and this isn’t like her. If you could reply and let me know when you last saw her, I’d really appreciate it.
Grace Harris
Standing up from the computer and stretching, she looked at the old man and gestured at her papers. He nodded: she’d been coming here for days now, and he could tell, even without any common language, that something wasn’t right. She rubbed her eyes and crossed the street to the busy little noodle stand.
To: Grace Harris
Similar Books
