“No.” I dialed Lauren’s cell.

It rang once and went to voicemail.

Lauren’s greeting was cheerful and quick, the same one she had used since high school.

I left a short message asking her to call me.

Then I refreshed the app.

The side door was still open, and the little icon of the door sat at an angle, as if somebody had propped it with a foot.

“Maybe she’s driving,” Rachel said.