“It’s done,” Lance said flatly.
“Lance, you shouldn’t stay up so late. You need to get some sleep,” Catherine said, reaching over to close his laptop. As she did, she saw what was on the screen: the website for the asylum where Jessica had been kept.
“Why are you looking at this?” she asked.
Lance hesitated for a moment before confiding in her. “Her reaction earlier, when I mentioned the asylum… it was extreme. I think something might have happened to her in there. I’m looking into it.”
Catherine sighed. “Let me handle this. You have enough on your plate. I’ll find out what happened and let you know.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
She took his arm and walked him to the master bedroom door. “Go get some sleep. Goodnight.”
Lance watched her limp back to her room, rubbing his temples. Why couldn’t Jessica be more like Catherine?
He entered the dark bedroom, his path familiar, and reached for Jessica in the bed. His hand met empty sheets.
He flicked on the bedside lamp. The bed was empty. Jessica wasn’t there.


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