After ending the call, Timothy checked the time. The day before the national holiday was a weekend, so after school let out the day after tomorrow, Henry wouldn''t need to go back until the break was over.
Timothy nned to book a flight for the morning two days from now. That way, they could still spend the afternoon out together.
He instructed his assistant to reserve two ne tickets. As he sent over their passport numbers, a thought struck him—Mabel had called earlier to say Jessica''s phone was ringing, but she wouldn''t answer.
Not picking up made sense. She couldn''t speak anyway.
Was she staying out all day because he''d invited her to dinner-then canceled at thest minute?
He and Jessica had been married for seven years, and not once had the three of them gone on a trip as a family.
On impulse, he told his assistant to book three tickets instead.
But he didn''t know Jessica''s passport number, so he shot her a quick text:
[Oakwood''s got aic con over the holiday. Henry wants to go. Send me your passport number so I can book the tickets.]
His message might as well have been tossed into a ck hole.
Timothy got home, but still hadn''t received a reply from Jessica.
And she still hadn''te back.
Normally, Timothy kept his emotions in check, but tonight, that calm was beginning to crack.
His assistant messaged again, reminding him she still needed Jessica''s passport number.
With a sigh, Timothy just sent over his and Henry''s details.
At dinner, Henry wasughing and chatting with She, clearly enjoying himself.
Mabel hovered nearby, frowning. With Mrs. Lawson still missing, it was as if these two had forgotten she even existed.
Finally, Mabel couldn''t help but say, "Sir, Mrs. Lawson hasn''te home. If she''s gone all night, she''ll have been missing over forty-eight hours."
Jessica wasn''ting home. She wasn''t answering texts. Even when Timothy tried to include her in their holiday ns, she ignored him.
Jessica had never caused him this kind of trouble before.
All of it left him with a burning weight in his chest.
His voice was cold. "Stop making a fuss about someone going missing. Even a kidnapper wouldn''t bother taking someone who can''t even speak."
Mabel fell silent immediately.
Timothy barely touched his dinner. He set down his fork and got up, heading to the bedroom.
She''s eyes darkened.
Henry leaned in, whispering, "Miss She, is Dad upset about something?"
"Henry, just finish your dinner. I''ll go check on him."
She walked to the master bedroom and knocked. "Timothy?"
"Come in."
She pushed open the door.
Timothy was standing by the window, cigarette in hand, smoke curling around him.
His reserved, elegant air was tinged with a rare mncholy.
That mute woman, Jessica, had gotten under his skin again.
She frowned a little, ncing around the room. Her eyesnded on a framed
photo on the wall-a blown-up copy of their marriage certificate.
She was momentarily stunned.
They''d gotten married, but never even took a wedding photo?
Clearly, she''d been overthinking things.
There was no way Timothy could ever fall for someone like Jessica.
She kept her distance, maintaining a respectful space between them.
"Timothy, I think Mabel has a point. Jessica''s been missing for so long. If something really happened to her, I''d be responsible. Maybe we should go out and look for her."
"What does any of this have to do with you? Don''t me yourself for everything," Timothy said, taking a long drag on his cigarette as if trying to numb the agitation churning inside him.
"I''m not trying to take the me, but the night beforest, she definitely saw me. She must have misunderstood something, got upset, and left. Timothy, she''s your wife—officially, with your family''s approval. If something does happen to her, how will you exin it to your grandfather?"
At that, Timothy''s expression darkened.
Back then...