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he ran to somebody too. Does he have any friends that he would crash with? Where would he go?"
    "You're right. Of course you're right. I need to get hold of people; I think there might be some people that he would have gone to. His sister lives around here and his secretary would have presumably gone to work." Nate sighed. He moved forward, kissed Cecily on the cheek goodbye, and beeped the lock open on his car, looking at the ground the whole time, avoiding the sad, anxious look in Cecily's eyes as he left.
    He scrolled through his phone and hovered over Aimee's name. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders of some stress before he pressed ring. Aimee's voice came through the phone, bright and breezy.
    "Hey, loser, what's up?"
    "Aimee. Hey. Have you heard from your brother?" Nate asked, as calmly as he could.
    "No. He texted me a couple of days ago—but it wasn't very exciting. Is everything okay?"
    "No. No. I mean, yes. Everything is fine. I've got to go now, but I'll call you later." He didn't want to frighten her. He put his cell on the passenger seat as if distancing himself from it could distance him from the whole situation. The phone represented all of the sad calls that he would have to make and all the awkward conversations that he would have to struggle through if Joshua didn't come back. Nate closed his eyes for a second, exhaled, and then started the car, feeling as if he was driving towards an awful unknown land.
    *~*~*
    Nate parked his car outside of the office and checked his phone again—nothing. He had called Joshua's secretary, his best friend, his parents, and some of the people he shared the office with, but nobody had any information. He dialed Joshua's number from memory. The thought crossed his mind that soon he might never have to type it again. He might even forget it one day, looking back at his life struggling to remember the small details that had once seemed so integral and everlasting. He quickly checked Facebook, but there was nothing interesting: no message, no update, nothing to suggest that this whole day was just some particularly cruel joke.
    He got out of the car, walked into the office, and introduced himself to the smiling receptionist, who told him to wait in the seating area. Please don't let this be as bad as I think it is. Please don't let this be as bad as I think it is . He said this silent prayer until the words lost all meaning, crashing into each other.
    "Mr. Grace?" Jack Clark was younger than his voice suggested. He was slick, not unattractive but a little too put-together, and thirtyish. His hair was neatly cropped, his body the kind of an active businessman, and a walk that said I own this place; I am the captain of this ship . Nate was taken aback by how wrong his mental image had been.
    Nate rose from his seat and shook Jack's hand. "Call me Nate."
    "Okay, Nate, follow me into the office. My receptionist is bringing us coffee." Jack started speaking immediately as they walked away from the reception area and through the large building, which made Nate feel like he was in an Aaron Sorkin drama. "I've been Mr. Mangelino's financial advisor for over four years now. When he started up Bay Consultancy, I helped him put some infrastructure in place, helped him understand what he could invest. Lately I've been showing him how to consolidate some assets and try to free some capital for the business." Jack's words possessed a kind of forced breeziness—an affectation of nonchalance that just didn't ring very true. Nate's body began to grow a little cold as he walked into Jack's spacious, modern office. It looked just like an office in a film: the typical nice-but-pretentious space of the boss character.
    "Nate, I'm sure that you know a bit about what has been happening with Mr. Mangelino's business affairs. The trouble that it has been facing and the—well, the financial difficulties and stresses that he has been under." Jack was professional, his words straightforward and