Chapter 13 - Missing
I called Dad despite the no-contact boundary.
"What do you mean she's gone?"
His voice shook. "Her car is gone. Her suitcase is gone. She left her wedding ring on the dresser."
My stomach dropped.
"Did you call her?"
"Thirty times."
"Police?"
"She left a note saying she was safe. They won't treat it like an emergency."
I closed my eyes.
A familiar instinct rose immediately.
Fix it.
Find her.
Make Dad calm down.
Make Mom okay.
Evan was watching me.
I covered the phone.
"What do I do?"
He answered gently. "Decide what is yours."
Back on the call, I asked Dad, "What did the note say exactly?"
He read it.
There it was again.
Even in disappearance, I had a role.
"Dad, she's telling you she's safe. Call Mark. Call Grandma. If you're worried, keep trying her. But I am not going to chase her."
"She's your mother."
"And I'm her daughter. That has never stopped her from letting me hurt."
He inhaled sharply.
"That was cruel."
"No. It was true."
I hung up crying.
The next morning, Mom called Dad from a hotel two towns away. She was safe, angry, and humiliated that the family had "turned against her."
She came home that evening.
I did not call.
Two days later, a handwritten letter arrived.
This time there was no accusation on the envelope. No dramatic return address.
Just my name.
I almost stopped reading.
I keep wanting to explain why I did it, she wrote. My therapist told me explanations are not apologies.
I froze.
Therapist.
I kept reading.
I knew the Christmas comment would embarrass you when I said it. I said it anyway because you had ignored my advice about Lily's feeding, and I wanted the family to hear my concern so you would take me seriously.
May you like
For the first time in my life, my mother had admitted intent.
But the next sentence was even harder to read.
