Chapter 2 - The Empty Bedroom
The following Sunday, Kendra drove to her parents’ house without calling first.
Viola opened the door only halfway.
“You should have told us you were coming.”
“I came to see Grandma.”
“She’s resting.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
Viola blocked the doorway.
Something cold moved through Kendra’s chest.
“Where is she?”
“I just told you.”
Kendra stepped around her mother and walked toward the guest bedroom.
The door was open.
The bed was neatly made. Evelyn’s blue cardigan was gone. So were her slippers, reading glasses, and framed photograph of Kendra’s late grandfather.
The room did not look temporarily empty.
It looked abandoned.
Otis appeared from the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?”
“Where is Grandma?”
Otis glanced at Viola.
That single look told Kendra they had prepared an answer.
“Marcus arranged a private recovery center,” Viola said. “It has specialists.”
“What is the name?”
“We don’t remember.”
“You sent Grandma somewhere and don’t remember where?”
Otis’s expression hardened.
“Do not interrogate your mother.”
Kendra took out her phone.
“Then I’ll call Marcus.”
Viola grabbed her wrist.
The movement was quick enough to surprise both of them.
“Leave him alone.”
Kendra looked down at her mother’s hand.
Viola released her.
“Marcus has been under pressure,” she added softly. “You always assume the worst about him.”
Kendra called Evelyn’s mobile phone from the driveway.
It went directly to voicemail.
She tried again from work the next morning.
The phone had been disconnected.
By lunchtime, Kendra had searched every licensed rehabilitation center within fifty miles.
None had admitted Evelyn Hale.
That evening, Marcus finally returned her call.
“Grandma wanted privacy,” he said.
“She would have told me.”
“Maybe she was tired of you controlling everything.”
“Give me the address.”
Marcus laughed.
“You’re not in charge of this family.”
Then he ended the call.
May you like
For the first time, Kendra wondered whether her grandmother was not recovering somewhere.
She wondered whether Evelyn was missing.
