The morning felt wrong from the first cup of coffee. Sunlight that usually pooled warm across the table seemed pale and distant. Helen checked the clock—8:15. They were never this late. The driveway stayed empty, the street too quiet.
She texted once. Then again. Delivered, not read. She set the phone face down and tried not to count the seconds. Somewhere inside the silence, a question wouldn’t stop knocking.
They were never late—so why did today feel like the day everything changed?
