As I approached the house, I noticed Gloria from across the street sitting on her porch, absorbed in one of my books. “Hey, Callum,” she said without looking up. “Jess stepped out earlier. She asked me to listen for Evie. Said you’d be back soon.”
My leg throbbed. My stomach tightened. “Did she say where she was going?”
“No. Just seemed urgent. The car was already running when she came to get me.”
The moment I stepped inside, I knew something wasn’t right. The cake was still on the counter, unfinished. The frosting knife rested against the bowl. No music. No Jess. No Evie. Only silence.
“Jess?” I called out, louder than I meant to. I knew Gloria said she wasn’t there—but I had to try anyway.
Five minutes after reading the note, I buckled my half-asleep daughter into her car seat, slipped the folded letter into my pocket, and drove. My mother opened the door before I even knocked. Maybe she’d heard my tires screech into the driveway. Maybe she’d been waiting.
“What did you do?” I demanded. “What did you do?”
The color drained from her face as understanding set in. “She went through with it?” she whispered. “I never thought she would.”
“I found the note,” I said, adjusting Evie’s weight against my shoulder. “Jess said you made her promise something. You’re going to explain—right now.”
Mom led us into the living room. Aunt Marlene followed, slow and quiet, as if she already sensed something unforgivable was about to surface.
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