Chapter 2 - The Morning After
At 6:15 a.m., Daniel’s alarm went off. He groaned, swiping at his phone screen to silence the blaring tone. He rolled over, expecting to feel the empty space on Rachel’s side of the bed—she was usually downstairs making coffee by now—but the sheets were unusually cold.
"Rachel?" he called out, his voice thick with sleep.
There was no answer. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, feeling a mild prickle of annoyance. He needed his beige tie for an early client meeting, and he couldn't remember which drawer he had tossed it into.
He walked down the hall to the kitchen. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, the aroma of dark roast coffee filled the air by six, accompanied by the gentle clinking of mugs and the soft murmur of the morning news.
Instead, the kitchen was cold and dark.
On the counter sat the four dirty dinner plates from the previous night. On the table stood a small, half-eaten chocolate cupcake with a burnt-out candle sticking out of the frosting like a tiny black cross.
"What is this?" Daniel muttered to himself.
"Dad! Where’s my gym uniform?" Noah yelled from the top of the stairs, his voice echoing through the silent house. "Mom didn't leave it on my door!"
"I don't know, Noah!" Daniel called back, his frustration rising. "Check the laundry room!"
Madison shuffled into the kitchen a moment later, her hair in a messy bun, holding her phone. "Is Mom still asleep? She was supposed to wake me up at six so I could finish my history paper. And where’s my package from yesterday? Did she pick it up?"
Ruth entered last, leaning heavily on her quad-cane, her face set in its habitual scowl. "Where is my morning tea? My knee is throbbing. Rachel knows I need my pills at six thirty sharp."
"I don't know where she is!" Daniel said, his voice sharper than intended. "She’s probably at the grocery store or something. Let me check the bedroom."
Daniel marched back to their room. He checked the bathroom. Empty. He checked the laundry room. Empty.
Finally, he opened the door to Rachel’s closet.
The space was almost completely barren. Where her scrub tops and sweaters usually hung, there was only empty space and bare hangers swinging gently in the draft. On the small wooden vanity table in the center lay a folded piece of paper with her silver house keys placed neatly on top.
Daniel felt a sudden, cold weight drop into his stomach.
He stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly as he picked up the note. As his eyes scanned the sharp, elegant handwriting, the color drained from his face.
Today was my thirty-ninth birthday...
Eighteen years... erasing myself...
"Daniel?" Ruth’s voice called from the doorway. "What is taking so long? Where is Rachel?"
Daniel turned slowly, holding the paper. He couldn't speak. His throat felt clamped shut by a sudden, suffocating panic.
Madison and Noah appeared behind their grandmother, curiosity quickly morphing into unease as they saw the expression on their father's face.
"Dad?" Madison asked, her voice dropping its usual sharp edge. "What’s wrong?"
"She... she left," Daniel whispered.
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"Left? What do you mean she left?" Noah asked, scoffing nervously. "Like, she went to work early?"
"No," Daniel said, his voice cracking. He held up the note. "She packed her things. She’s gone."
