Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“I have a video to edit by five o’clock,” he said, talking to the empty air. “I don’t have time for whatever this is.”
I pushed the screen door open and stepped into the kitchen, letting the spring pull the door shut with a soft click behind me. I kept my hands at my sides, my fingers loose, refusing to touch the gold wedding ring that still sat in my pocket.
“I am here, Ryan,” I said.
He jumped, his shoulders jerking backward as he stared at me. He looked down at my shoes, then up at my face, his eyes wide and blinking. His forehead was dark from the beach sun, a white line showing where his sunglasses had protected his skin during his days on the sand.
“Where is the couch?” he asked, his voice rising as he gestured toward the empty living room. “Where are the cribs? Where are my things, Chloe? Did we get robbed?”
“The babies are safe,” I said, keeping my voice level and slow. “And nothing was stolen. Everything that belongs to me and the children has been moved.”
