Chapter 3
Lorraine slumped into the taxi seat, her eyes still puffy from crying. She swallowed hard, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d start többing
The wedding joy she’d clung to had curdled into pure terror. She couldn’t bring herself to think about last night. But just remembering Lupine’s that intense, overpowering presence of his made her shiver uncontrollably.
It recked of a setup, and she’d walked right into it. Helplessness clawed at her ribs, relentless.
When the taxi reached her destination, she paid in silence, stepped out, and dialed Stephen again. His phone was still off, and even his parents didn’t pick up.
She thought about calling someone else, but she didn’t really know any of Stephen’s friends. With nowhere else to go, she walked slowly into her family’s house.
The Shaw residence lay quiet that morning, With Zackery Shaw, Lorraine’s I father, away from home, only her stepmother Raquel sat at the breakfast table, sipping coffee.
The moment she noticed Lorraine, her expression hardened. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Lorraine ignored the hostility and crossed the room. “Raquel,” she asked, her voice strained, “is there any other way to contact Stephen?”
Raquel set down her cup with deliberate slowness, arching one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You don’t have his number, and now you’re coming to me?”
The familiar sting of Raquel’s indifference barely registered anymore. Lorraine pressed her lips together. “You were the one who fixed me up with him Now I can’t reach him at all. Do you know where he is? He’s missing.”
At twenty years old, still a college junior, Lorraine had been pushed into this early marriage by her stepmother’s scheming.
She’d been so desperate to escape that cold, loveless house that she’d agreed to marry Stephen after just a few months of dating. She’d hoped for better, But instead, she found herself more lost than ever.
Raquel dropped all pretense. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. “He’s missing? You can’t even keep tabs on your own husband, and you’re asking me? You’re married now. Deal with it yourself. Stop dragging me into your messes. I’m not your mother.”
“Raquel, please,” Lorraine begged, wringing her hands. Her voice trembled as she continued, “I’ve looked everywhere. Just help me this once.”
With a sneer, Raquel rose from her seat. “I’ve got shopping to do. Don’t waste my time.”
She snatched her purse off the table and deliberately shoved past Lorraine. “Get out. This isn’t your home anymore. Stop coming back here like some
lost puppy.
Still weak from the previous night, Lorraine staggered back from the impact. The edge of the table dug into her lower back, sending a jolt of pain through
her body.
Doubled over, she could only watch helplessly as Raquel flounced out the door with a triumphant smirk plastered across her face,
As dusk settled over the city, Lorraine wandered aimlessly through the streets.
Her reflection in shop windows revealed her disheveled state-still in last night’s white cocktail dress, feet stuffed into the Moore family’s slippers, her hair a storm–tossed wreck.
Her body ached with the intimate weariness of last night–a night that should have been shared with her husband. But Stephen, the man who should have been by her side, had vanished without a trace.
His phone rang endlessly to voicemail, and the Moore family’s staff claimed no knowledge of his whereabouts.
Chapter 3
Even his parents had switched off their phones, leaving the Moore residejice deserted.
She’d spent the entire day combing through every possible location, unable to comprehend that not a single sout could explain what ha Indifferent now of traffic and pedestrians around her only emphasized her Isolation.
In under twenty–four hours, her world had inverted–froin the heights of joy to the depths of despair, without warning or reason.
The phone buzzed persistently in her pocket before she finally noticed. When she pulled it out, an unknown caller ID stared back at her. Her breat hitched as she answered urgently, “Stephen?!”
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