Chapter 1 - the empty chair
Three months earlier, Theresa still set a place for her husband at breakfast.
David had been gone for eight months, yet his favorite mug remained in the cupboard and his slippers rested beneath the bed. Grief made the house feel larger than it was.
Austin noticed.
Her only son began visiting more often after the funeral. At first, Theresa was grateful. He changed light bulbs, carried groceries, and helped sort insurance forms. Chloe brought casseroles and spoke in a gentle voice that always seemed slightly rehearsed.
One rainy afternoon, Austin said their landlord had raised the rent.
“Just for a few weeks,” he promised. “Until we find somewhere affordable.”
Theresa agreed.
They moved in with twelve boxes, expensive furniture, Chloe’s exercise equipment, and a locked filing cabinet Austin claimed belonged to his consulting business. Within two days, David’s reading chair had been moved to the garage. Within a week, Chloe replaced family photographs with mirrors.
Temporary became comfortable.
Austin began opening Theresa’s mail because important notices might upset her. Chloe controlled the grocery account because Theresa was “too generous.” They changed the alarm code and forgot to tell her.
“You have enough to worry about, Mom,” Austin said.
The sentence sounded caring. It did not feel caring.
One night, Theresa found David’s chair beneath a plastic sheet in the garage. Something was folded beneath the cushion.
It was a note in David’s handwriting.
Trust your instincts, Tess. You always notice more than people think.
May you like
Theresa held the note to her chest.
Then she began watching her son instead of believing him.
