When Hannah finally got on the phone, her voice sounded weak and frightened.
“Ethan… please come home.”
My stomach tightened.
“What’s wrong?”
Before she could answer, my mother grabbed the phone.
“Nothing is wrong,” she said with a laugh. “New mothers get emotional.”
Something felt off.
On the fourth day, I decided to return without warning.
I bought diapers, pastries from Hannah’s favorite bakery, and a small green blanket for Owen.
When I pulled into the driveway, the front door stood slightly open.
The house smelled stale.
The television blared from the living room.
Patricia and Courtney were sleeping on the couch beneath piles of blankets.
Dirty dishes covered every surface.
A chill ran down my spine.
I rushed toward the bedroom.
