Claire looked away.
“January fourth.”
Ethan stared at her.
“January fourth?”
“They left for Cancún this morning.”
For several seconds, he thought he had misunderstood.
Then he opened the refrigerator.
It was almost completely empty.
There was half a bottle of water, a jar of mustard, two ketchup packets, and a single bruised apple.
The freezer had been cleared out.
Every container of soup, chicken, pasta, and stew was gone.
So were the bottles of formula, the yogurt, the vegetables, the juice, and the meal-replacement drinks Claire’s doctor had recommended.
Taped to the refrigerator door was a piece of paper written in thick black marker.
Don’t call Ethan. He is working. Don’t create unnecessary drama.
Ethan slowly removed the note.
“Did my mother write this?”
Claire’s silence answered him.
PART 2 — The Vacation Photographs
Claire had been trying to protect him.
That was the first thing Ethan understood.
She had been in pain, hungry, frightened, and overwhelmed, yet she had still worried that telling him the truth might cost him his job.
Diane had repeatedly warned her not to interrupt Ethan’s assignment.
According to Claire, the postpartum nurse had visited only twice.
On the third morning, Diane told the nurse that the family no longer needed her services. She claimed Claire was recovering perfectly and that relatives would be present around the clock.
The grocery deliveries stopped soon afterward.
Whenever Claire asked about them, Diane said the orders had been delayed.
Brooke took several boxes of formula home, explaining that her friend had recently had a baby and needed help.
Jason carried frozen meals from the freezer to his car, claiming they were being moved to Diane’s larger freezer.
Claire believed them because she had no reason not to.
That morning, the truth had finally become clear.
Diane, Brooke, Jason, and Ben arrived with suitcases.
They packed food into coolers. They took toiletries from the bathroom, the warm quilt from the guest room, and the new shawl Ethan had bought for Claire’s birthday.
Brooke said the hotel might be cold at night.
When Claire protested, Diane placed the note on the refrigerator.
“You have noodles,” she said. “You’ll survive for a few days.”
“What about Lily?” Claire asked.
“You’re her mother,” Diane replied. “You need to learn how to manage.”
They left before ten in the morning.
Claire had attempted to prepare the noodles, but standing at the stove made her dizzy. The pot slipped from her hand, spilling the water.
She had been eating the noodles dry when Ethan walked in.
His phone vibrated.
Brooke had posted photographs on social media.
