Slowly, my eyes sweep across the room even as I can already tell that Zyrax is very right. Something is wrong.
The bed is perfectly made, the reading desk has been cleared, every book stacked into neat piles. That’s not Eliot. He’s not messy but also not this organized.
I cross the room and pull open the wardrobe, only for empty hangers to sway gently.
Most of his clothes are gone and I stare for a second before crouching to look underneath. The shoeboxes are still there but the shoes aren’t.
I straighten slowly, turning in a slow circle.
The bed, desk, clothes…it’s not a coincidence. I’m not overthinking this. I draw in another slow breath, hoping I’m wrong but his scent is gone. There’s no trace of him here on anything and a scoff leaves my lips.
I mean, what are the chances Eli
