The receptionist dialed Justin's room using the front desk phone, but no one picked up.

"I'm sorry, miss. The guest is not answering. He may not be in his room."

Rosalie panicked. "Justin, where are you?"

"Check the surveillance footage," Rosalie immediately told the receptionist. "Please, pull up the footage. I need to see where he went."

"I'm sorry, miss. We can't provide access to our hotel's surveillance footage to unauthorized persons. If you can't reach your friend, you should call the police. If law enforcement requests the footage, we will provide it to them."

Rosalie hesitated. Her first instinct was indeed to call the police, but she was worried as Justin's identity was complicated.

She stumbled out of the hotel entrance, took out her phone, and called him again and again.

By the sixth call, Rosalie collapsed to the ground, crying uncontrollably.

promise to wait for me? How could you lie to me? You swore! You're a liar! You never keep your promises!" She was sobbing so hard she could hardly breathe. Passersby stared at her, puzzled

then, a familiar voice sounded

voice, Rosalie lifted her

gasped in

and carried her off the ground. "Why are you sitting here? Did someone bully

her tightly, he glanced around, trying to find the person who had

was overwhelmed with a mix of emotions-surprise, relief, and anger. Suppressing her fury, she said, "Yes, someone bullied

concerned. "Who bullied you? Tell me. I'll make them

fists and landed a punch on his shoulder. "It was

put the pieces together. Rosalie had been sitting outside the hotel and crying —it was

I just went

quite a distance and eventually caught them. The man had broken down in tears,

had assumed the man was a

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