angel - rafe cameron (outerbanks)

5 - necklace

chapter 33
necklace

angie sat on the floor of her bedroom, back pressed against the edge of her bed, legs stretched out in front of her. she hadn't gone back to sleep after rafe left. she didn't even try. she was surrounded by maddie's things. loose polaroids, half-burnt candles that still carried the faintest hint of vanilla and smoke. she traced a finger over the spine of a her favourite book, flipping through the pages without really reading them.

none of it told her anything she didn't already know.

with a quiet sigh, she set the book aside and leaned back against the edge of her bed. her eyes flickered toward the door, and for the first time in weeks, a thought crossed her mind—one she couldn't shake.

maddie's room.

no one had been inside since the day she disappeared. she had been under strict instructions to not enter the room under any circumstances. her parents had left it untouched, like stepping inside would be admitting the truth out loud.

but angie wasn't scared of the truth. she was scared of never finding it.

pushing herself to her feet, she moved carefully through the hallway, her sock-covered steps silent against the wooden floors. when she reached maddie's door, she hesitated, fingers hovering over the doorknob.

then, before she could talk herself out of it, she twisted the handle.

the door opened with a quiet squeak.

angie stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat like she was expecting something to jump out at her. the air felt strange in here, like the room had been frozen in time, waiting for maddie to come back.

her bed was still made, the sheets tucked in just the way she always did. a half-empty water bottle sat on the nightstand. a sweater was draped over the desk chair, like she had left, fully intending to come back.

but she never did.

angie swallowed hard and took another step forward.

she wasn't sure what she was looking for. the police had already searched the room and found nothing.

but they didn't know her.

angie knew how maddie thought, how she hid things in places no one would think to check. the cops had probably torn through her drawers, flipped her mattress, checked the usual spots—but maddie was smarter than that. if she had left something behind, it wouldn't be in the obvious places.

she stepped further inside, carefully closing the door behind her. the air was thick with the scent of faded perfume and dust, the kind of stillness that came from a room untouched for too long.

her fingers brushed over the surface of the desk, trailing through a fine layer of dust. everything was exactly as maddie had left it—the books stacked haphazardly, the loose papers covered in half-written thoughts, the small trinkets she never went anywhere without.

angie crouched beside the bed, running her hands underneath the frame, feeling for anything taped to the wooden slats. nothing.

she checked the closet next, pushing through rows of hanging clothes, searching the top shelf where maddie kept old shoeboxes filled with letters and polaroids.

but it was all just stuff. pieces of a life frozen in time.

angie exhaled sharply, stepping back into the center of the room. maybe she had been wrong. maybe there really was nothing here.

then her eyes landed on the nightstand.

the drawer was slightly open. not much—just enough for her to notice.