It's been over two and a half days since she was taken. Over 61 hours have passed. She was there, and then she wasn't. It's still weighing on me. I know she's not confirmed dead. I know I should maybe hold out hope. I know. I know. I know. I know.

Kari's family is back in Eastbourne. The police figure that, now Kari's gone, they're probably safer. I went over to check up on them earlier - they always liked me. I almost expected them to be glad to see me. They weren't...displeased. They barely registered I was there. Fear and sorrow so dense as to have weight, like old clothes soaked through. A tearless, weak-voiced sorrow.

They had her stuff with her. Her suitcase. My copy of House of Leaves. There was a little bit on one of the pages where small circles were ruffled, watermarks. Her tears.

It's not getting any better.