“No,” I said. “I’m just tired.”
His voice warmed again. “Sleep tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
I forced the words out.
“I love you too.”
When the call ended, I did not cry.
Instead, I opened my notes app and wrote down everything he had said.
Then I emailed it to myself.
Then to Miriam.
By seven o’clock, the bank confirmed the pending transfer had been placed under review.
At seven-thirty, Grace texted again.
“Melanie is missing.”
I stood in the kitchen holding a bowl of soup I had microwaved but not eaten.
“What do you mean missing?” I typed.
“She left her apartment this afternoon. Phone off. Car gone. Her neighbor says she had a suitcase.”
My first reaction was not sympathy.
I am not proud of that.
My first reaction was suspicion.
“Maybe she went to meet Lucas,” I wrote.
“No. She left before his plane landed.”
