I felt too shy to answer for this

Ferdinand’s POV

I got home at my usual time, around half past six. I always make sure everything at work is done before I leave, so nothing follows me into the house. Nothing felt strange when I stepped out of the car. But the moment I walked into the living room with a bowl of my mother’s favourite ice cream, a wave of fear gripped me.

There are usually three ways to know she is home. Either she is in the living room with the music loud or the news on the television. Or she is in the kitchen, and the whole house smells of her spices because she loves cooking. And sometimes, though not often, she is busy cleaning, even though we have maids and cleaners for that. She always says cleaning is her form of exercise, no matter how much I tell her to leave it for the staff.

But that evening, the entire house was silent.

“Has she gone to rescue another woman again?” I muttered, still irritated by the fact that she sometimes disappears for days.

I dropped my suitcase in my room but did not sit