(Chelsea)
I stared at my laptop screen, refreshing the email for the tenth time in five minutes. Nothing. No confirmation, no travel itinerary, no contact information. Just the receipt from yesterday shows that $500 had been charged to my credit card for this stupid trip.
My hands shook as I clicked on the travel company's website again. The page wouldn't load—just an error message staring back at me.
"This can't be happening," I muttered.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the customer service number from the receipt. The automated response made my stomach drop.
"The number you have dialed is not in service."
I ended the call and immediately called Jason.
“Yeah?” he answered, sounding more distracted than concerned.
“Jason, get over here. Now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m serious. Just c
