INTOXICATED

ELLIANA'S POV

"He should have been home by now," she murmured, her voice tight with tension. "I've left him three messages, and he still won't pick up."

Tom emerged from his room, a concerned expression on his face. "Maybe he's just trying to work through things on his own," he suggested, though his voice was uncertain.

Night fell, and still there was no sign of Jeffery. My mother, Tom, and I huddled together in the living room, a sense of impending doom hanging in the air.

"He's never done this before," my mother worried, her eyes wide with fear. "He always checks in, always tells me where he's going. This isn't like him."

As the clock ticked past midnight, Tom reached for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed a number. "I'm calling the police," he said, his voice low and determined. "Something's not right.

Just as Tom's finger hovered over the call button, his phone vibrated in his hand. The screen lit up, displaying an incoming call from an unknown number.

He answered, and