They made their way to the 12th floor and stopped in front of Room 3.
Ding dong. Kaija pressed the doorbell.
No answer.
Ding dong. She pressed it again.
Still no answer.
Now Kaija was starting to feel genuinely concerned.
"Instructor, it's me," Kaija said, knocking on the door.
Ten minutes of repeated knocking and ringing later, she turned to the receptionist, her tone serious. "Please open the door. If he's mad about it, I'll take full responsibility."
Even the receptionist looked worried now, her brow tightly knit as she swiped the key card and pushed the door open.
Antony's place was a two-bedroom flat with a spacious living room. The flat looked just as minimally decorated and perfectly orderly as his office, with a few small plants in the corners and all surfaces spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.
Still, Antony was nowhere to be found, so the two girls started checking the rooms.
"He's not in here," the receptionist called from one bedroom.
