Colin texted to say he had no idea when he’d be home tonight, something about a complication with a proposal. Just another ordinary Tuesday in the Montgomery household.
I was already at the restaurant with the kids when the message came through. Cooking felt like too much, and with Colin’s schedule so erratic lately, I didn’t want to be sitting at home if he happened to come back early again, like he did yesterday.
On Sunday, when I let myself get distracted talking to my father, I realized too late that Maya had vanished.
My heart starts to race. My first instinct is to look for Alicia, she went inside a little while ago to grab her tablet. But then I remember, she was already back outside, standing with Ethan, the tablet clutched in her hands, while Maya was still lingering near the bar.
I release a quiet breath of relief.
My eyes sweep the crowd, searching for Colin.
He wouldn’t.
Not here. Not in the house where his children live.
Would he?
I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what he’s capable of.
A few seconds later, I spot him at a table with Jonathan and several associates, laughing ea, completely at ease, as if nothing in the world could trouble him. And still, the dread doesn’t loosen its grip.
I go inside.
I move through the house room by room, my steps steady and methodical. I check every door, every corner, making sure she isn’t somewhere she has no right to be.
She’s nowhere.
When I come up empty, there’s only one conclusion left, she must have left.
What a shame… She didn’t even bother to say goodbye.
It doesn’t matter now. What I needed to see, what I needed to hear, I already have.
In the early evening, after the hired crew restored the house to its usual order, I told Colin I had a headache and was going upstairs to lie down. I caught the brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes before I turned away and climbed the stairs.
After a shower, I took a pill to help me sleep.
I didn’t wake until morning.
Now I sit across from Ethan and Alicia, watching them laugh as they share a sundae. Ethan was a little off today, quieter thanusual, which makes the sight all the more reassuring. Seeing him relaxed, enjoying himself with his sister, loosens something tight in my chest.
I motion for the check.
Just as I finish paying, my phone starts to ring. I smile when I see the name on the screen, even as a dull ache twists in my stomach. I tell the kids I’ll be right back, push away from the table, and head toward the restroom to answer.
“Can you talk now?” he asks.
I take a steadying breath. “Yes.”
Less than ten minutes later, I return to the table. We leave the restaurant shortly after.
As soon as we’re home and Alicia heads upstairs, Ethan follows me into the kitchen.
“Mom, we need to talk.”
He hesitates, closing his eyes as if bracing himself, then looks at me again.
The expression on his face makes my blood run cold.
