“We won’t,” Lilia interrupted, though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. She forced herself to stay focused, to think about Willow and the answers they needed.
“Found it,” Sebastian said. He turned the screen for them to see.
“Look for the 13th of April,” Lilia urged quietly.
Sebastian furrowed his brow as he searched for the date. The computer whirred softly, and after a moment, a list of names appeared on the screen.
“Okay, I’ve got it,” Sebastian said, “But the name listed on the reservation isn’t Willow Montgomery.”
Lilia leaned in, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Sebastian pointed to the screen. “The name listed here is Phoebe Hastings—not Willow Montgomery.”
“Are you sure that’s the right date?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes, there’s nothing. Just this. The date is right, but that isn’t her name.”
“So what?” Eleanor asked, her brow furrowed. “She used a fake name? Why—it’s not like anyone here knew her.”
“She wanted to make sure no one ever found out,” Lilia said quietly.
“Is there any credit card information?” Augustus asked, glancing nervously down the hallway.
“Nothing. It says here that they paid in cash.”
“Of course they did.” Delilah sighed. “Great. We drove two hours for absolutely nothing.”
“Lilah—” Sebastian started as she turned to leave.
“I’m going to bed,” she murmured.
Lilia watched Delilah’s retreating figure, her footsteps echoing through the empty lobby. The frustration was evident in her rigid posture, and Lilia felt it too—a gnawing sense of defeat. This entire trip had led them to more questions than answers and felt like they were chasing shadows in the dark.
“Wait,” Lilia said, her voice cutting through the silence. “Let’s think about this.”
Delilah stopped, but didn’t turn around. The others exchanged uneasy glances before focusing back on Lilia.
“Phoebe Hastings,” she continued. “We need to find out who that is. Maybe it’s someone Willow knew, or maybe it’s connected to whoever she came here with.”
“You think it’s an alias?” Augustus asked.
“Possibly,” Lilia replied. “Or it could be someone else entirely. But whoever it is, they’re important. Willow came here with the mystery guy, and maybe Phoebe Hastings is the key to figuring out who he is.”
Sebastian, who had been scrolling through the hotel’s records, glanced up. “We can check the room she stayed in and see if there’s anything left behind. It’s a long shot, but maybe we’ll find something.”
“Nothing,” Sebastian muttered after a few minutes, frustration creeping into his voice. “This place is spotless.”
Lilia opened the closet, her hand brushing against the empty hangers. Her heart sank as the reality of their situation settled over her. They had come all this way, and for what? A name that meant nothing, a room that offered no clues?
“Wait.” Eleanor’s voice was barely audible, but it carried across the room like a beacon. She was crouched by the nightstand, her fingers carefully prying open a small compartment at the back. “There’s something here.”
Everyone gathered around her as she pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. Lilia’s breath caught in her throat as Eleanor unfolded it, revealing a hastily scribbled note.
Thank you for the best night.
“Is that Willow’s handwriting?” Delilah asked, her voice shaky.
Lilia nodded, recognizing the familiar script. It was unmistakable. This was Willow’s.
