Chapter 1

My best friend, Maya, went to Dubai to work as a nanny.

Out of nowhere, she video-called me, claiming a billionaire oil prince had fallen head over heels for her and they were getting married.

"Chloe, I get millions in allowance every single day! Next week, I’m sending a private jet to pick you up. I’m gifting you an oil well so you can just lie in bed and count cash for the rest of your life!"

I was so hyped that I quit my job on the spot, waiting for my ride.

But on the day we were supposed to meet at the airport...

I watched private jets land and take off all day, but none of them were for me.

I even checked the customs entry list for the entire day. Maya’s name wasn’t on it.

Heart pounding, I dialed her number. But all I got was a cold, computerized voice:

"We’re sorry, the number you dialed is no longer in service..."

I stared at my phone screen, not daring to blink.

The time jumped from 2:00 PM to 8:00 PM.

The air conditioning in the JFK Airport VIP lounge was freezing, raising goosebumps all over my arms.

The receptionist walked over for the third time.

The sharp click of her heels against the marble floor made my head throb.

"Ms. Chloe, there is no Maya on today’s private flight arrivals. No flights from Dubai have even registered."

She wore a professional, fake smile, but her eyes were dripping with mockery.

"That’s impossible!"

I slammed my phone onto the counter. The screen displayed my chat history with Maya.

In the photo, Maya was wearing a diamond-encrusted gown, leaning against a gold Bugatti with a radiant smile.

"Look closely! This is the location she sent me yesterday. She said she was sending a Gulfstream G700 for me!"

"She said she was taking me to Dubai to swim in cash. She was going to buy me an oil well!"

The receptionist took a disgusted step back.

"Ms. Chloe, you can get those photos photoshopped on Fiverr for five bucks. Or buy a fake package on Amazon."

"Your time in the VIP lounge has expired. Without active flight info, I must ask you to leave."

To wait for Maya, I had thrown my resignation letter right in my boss's face. I hadn't even paid my rent.

All my luggage was stored at the airport lockers. If I didn't leave now, I'd be sleeping under a bridge tonight.

"Maya would never lie to me! We grew up together. I know every single freckle on her body!"

I grabbed my phone and dialed that familiar number again.

Yesterday, she was still bragging about how obsessed the prince was with her.

She said she’d buy me a solid gold toilet just so I could experience "treating money like piece of trash."

Her voice had been high-pitched and ecstatic. In the background, I could hear loud Arabic music and the roar of sports cars.

Now, there was only the robotic female voice telling me the number didn't exist.

My brain went completely numb. With trembling fingers, I opened Snapchat.

Our chat history stopped at her last voice note: "Send me a photo of your passport before you get on the plane!"

I sent her a question mark. A bright red exclamation mark flashed on the screen.

*Message failed to send. You are not connected with this user.*

Blocked? Deleted? Or account deactivated?

A wave of dizziness hit me. I almost collapsed onto the floor.

"Maya, you got rich and decided to dump your poor bestie, is that it?"

Refusing to believe it, I clicked on her Instagram.

Her profile, which had been flooded with photos of Dubai supercars, yachts, and that "oil prince" who only showed his eyes, was completely blank.

Just a gray line.

"Ms. Chloe, security is on their way. Please cooperate," the receptionist's voice went cold.

I turned around, dragging my two massive suitcases, and ran.

I couldn’t believe Maya would be this cruel.

Last month, she couldn't pay her rent, so I maxed out my credit card to cover her. Her ticket to Dubai was bought with my savings for a house down payment.

She always said I was her only real family. She wouldn't just vanish and delete her number.

Unless... something happened to her!

I took a cab straight to Maya’s old apartment. On the way, I called everyone in my contact list.

"Zach, have you heard from Maya?"

"Chloe, you've got the wrong guy. My ex was Vanessa. I’ve been single since college!"

The line went dead. I cursed and called Maya’s cousin.

"Jessica, is Maya with you?"

"Chloe, honey, are you under too much work stress? I’m an only child. I don’t have a cousin named Maya."

The cab screeched to a halt at the entrance of a sketchy, rundown alley. My head hit the back of the seat, but I didn't even care about the pain.

I tossed a hundred-dollar bill at the driver and dashed into the dark building.

I ran up to the fifth floor and began pounding furiously on the metal door of apartment 502.

"Maya! Get out here!"

"Don't think you can hide from me! Give me my money back!"

"If you want to cut ties, fine! Just pay me back for the plane ticket, and we’re even!"

The door didn't budge. Instead, the door of 501 swung open.

An old man, reeking of cheap beer, poked his head out holding a heavy kitchen knife.

"Who’s screaming in the middle of the night? You want me to chop you up?!"

I flinched at the sight of the knife. I pointed at 502, my voice shaking. "I'm looking for Maya."

The old man squinted at me like I was a lunatic.

"That apartment has been empty for years! Nobody lives there!"

"Impossible!"

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my photos.

"I helped her move in last month! Look, this is a photo of us right at this doorway!"

My fingers flew across the screen until I found the photo.

My voice died in my throat.

The background of the photo was indeed this rusty metal door. Even the faded Halloween pumpkin decal on the door was identical.

But in the photo, I was standing there completely alone, making a peace sign at the empty air, wearing a stiff, creepy smile.

Maya, who was supposed to be hugging my arm, was completely gone.