Her diary. It was gone. She never moved it from her nightstand. That book had been with her since before she left Illinois, since before Pax, and now it was gone.
She didn't even entertain the possibility that it had been misplaced, but she still tore her apartment to shreds looking for it, scaring Bear onto the top of the kitchen cupboards with her frantic search. But the longer she looked, she knew. She goddamn knew Who had it.
Yanking her door open, she crossed the hall and pounded angrily on Abel's door, shouting all manner of obscenities at him through the particleboard and demanding he return her property. But either he wasn't home, or he wasn't answering, because there was no response.
She turned back to her own apartment, seething, but also terrified. She sat on her couch, head in her hands, mentally going through what she could remember of its contents, fear settling in her stomach at the idea of those words falling into the wrong hands.