13
Kat checked the clock on her nightstand for the tenth time. The food she’d brought back to the dorm was cold and untouched on her desk.
Where was Tristan? He should have been here an hour ago. A creeping unease ate away at her. Why hadn’t he called?
A knot formed in her stomach, and a chill stole across her skin. It was the same feeling she’d had back in London when she and Tristan had parted without a good-bye.
She dialed his cell. It rang eight times before going to voice mail. Swallowing thickly, Kat fought off the rising panic.
“Tristan, where are you? I’m worried. Please call me back when you get this.” She hung up and forced herself to sit down.
Her phone rang and she jumped. “Tristan! Where are you?”
“Kat, honey, it’s Dad.” Her father spoke slowly, his voice strained.
“Da
