He tried to rationalize it by telling himself that it was probably just heavy traffic or a closed road, meaning she had to drive out of her way, or, perhaps, long lines at the place where she was getting their take-out, but there was a nagging feeling in his gut telling him otherwise. Telling him something was wrong.
He waited impatiently for another fifteen minutes before he looked up to see a police officer walking solemnly through the office. Immediately, his stomach dropped right to his feet. The officer stopped walking a few feet from Michael’s desk and said, “Excuse me, is there a Michael Vaughn here?”
“T-that’s me,” Michael stammered, standing up. His heart rate was beating a thousand miles an hour and he thought he was going to be sick.
The officer walked closer to Michael’s desk before speaking again. “You were listed as Sydney Bristow’s contact, do you know her?” he asked. Michael nodded as his face slowly turned ghost white. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s been an accident…”
ehehehehe