ARWAN
The minutes crawl by like hours, each passing second intensifying the knot of anxiety in my chest. My phone feels like a lead weight in my hand as I stare at the screen, desperate for any sign of a response. But my messages remain unanswered, and the silence is deafening.
I run a hand through my hair, my frustration growing with each unanswered text. It's been a day since that ominous message arrived, a day of uncertainty and fear gnawing at my insides. I've sent message after message, trying to reach out to the person who might have information about Waverly's whereabouts. But the lack of response is driving me to the brink of madness.
