EDWARD’S POV
Something is wrong with Layla, even though she’s decided she can bullshit me into believing otherwise.
According to her, she was crying because she was happy, her eyes were red because the sun got in them and whatever had her sitting alone in the middle of the quad looking like her entire life had just gone to s**t was nothing I needed to worry about.
I have no idea what is wrong and trying to figure it out while everyone is waiting for me to speak isn’t getting us any closer to finding Eliot.
I grab the marker off the table and turn toward the whiteboard, forcing my attention back where it needs to be. A map of the Bay Area takes up most of it, already covered in circles, dates and enough scribbled notes from the last few weeks that anybody walking in here without contex
