Chapter 5

I thought Maren had disabled her location because she wanted me to apologize first.

It was 11:47 p.m. when I finally opened our front door.

The house was dark.

"Maren?"

No one answered.

I switched on the living room light.

The shoes she wore most often were gone.

Half the coats had vanished from the rack.

Her side of the bedroom closet was empty. Her skin care bottles, the book on her nightstand, the albums on the shelf, and the suitcase she had used for seven years were all gone.

I suddenly remembered those boxes she claimed were for donations.