The call came at dawn.
Vanessa’s voice cracked through the line.
“She’s gone, Eliana. Eliora’s gone.”
I sat up in bed. My heart thundered, louder than her voice.
“When?”
“Last night. She took a bag and disappeared. No note. No goodbye.”
Adrian took the phone from me. Calm but firm.
“Is security on alert?”
“Airports. Terminals. Highways. She’s vanished.”
“We’ll take it from here.”
He hung up and looked at me. I didn’t need to ask. I already knew.
She was planning something.
Security around the house doubled.
More cameras.
Motion lights.
A guard posted outside my bedroom.
Another is stationed downstairs.
Adrian didn’t say much.
But he didn’t need to.
He held my hand tighter. Walked closer. Slept with one hand over my stomach.
Four days passed.
No signs. No messages.
Until the package arrived.
Brown wrapping paper. No return address. My name in sharp black ink.
Adrian watched me open it.
Inside, a baby doll.
The head was twisted sideways. The dress stained red.
Paint, not blood. But mean
