Noah’s POV
I hit redial for the fourth time, my anxiety building with each click to answerphone.
‘Hi this is Daisy, I’m obviously too busy living my best life to answer right now, but leave a message and if I like you, I’ll call you back . . ‘
I swear loudly, slamming my thumb down on the end call button without leaving a message, I’ve already left three, if she hasn’t picked those up she won’t pick up a fourth.
I don’t know what to do, is she OK? Was she involved? She would have been in the café right? The officer said it wasn’t the café that got hit so she would be safe . . .
I hit my steering wheel with the palms of my hands, letting out my anger and worry in the only way I can. As my body finally sags as my energy runs out, I grip the wheel, breathing in a long, slow, deep breath,
