Chapter 2

A little girl clutching a teddy bear appeared in the corner of his vision.

James slowly turned toward her.

She stood there quietly near the massive hallway entrance, tiny fingers squeezing the soft bear tightly against her chest. Her sleepy eyes blinked at him with confusion, too young to fully understand what was happening, but old enough to feel that something was wrong.

And somehow, that was the final thing that broke him.

His chest caved inward.

The tears he'd been fighting all morning suddenly spilled over.

He staggered toward her, pulling her into his arms so tightly it almost scared her. One hand cradled the back of her head while the other stroked her hair shakily.

"D-Daddy?" she whispered.

James buried his face against her shoulder, crying silently.

Then almost immediately, as if realizing he was terrifying her, he pulled away too fast, dropping to one knee in front of her.

"Everything's fine, honey," he said quickly, wiping at his face with trembling hands. "Go back to sleep."

The girl tilted her head in confusion.

"Dad... It's 8 AM."

Her tiny voice was careful, hesitant.

"Am I not going to school?"

James blinked.

Only then did he really look at her.

Her little backpack was already strapped onto her shoulders crookedly, one side lower than the other. Her shoes were slightly uneven, the straps messy because she'd clearly struggled putting them on herself. The teddy bear rested beneath one arm while strands of messy hair framed her small face.

Normally Kate prepared breakfast every morning.

Normally Kate tied her hair neatly.

Packed her lunch.

Fixed her uniform.

Walked her to the door.

But now Lisa had done it herself.

Alone.

And she hated being alone.

James remembered the nights she'd cry if the hallway light wasn't left on. The way she'd sprint across the massive living room was because she hated the silence whenever the house felt empty.

Yet this morning she woke up alone, got dressed alone, packed her bag alone, and came looking for him alone.

Because her parents had failed her.

Something inside him cracked painfully.

"There's no school today, honey," he said softly. "We're going somewhere special."

Immediately, her face lit up.

Children were terrifyingly good at accepting hope.

"Really?!"

She spun around excitedly, skipping across the polished floor while humming some random tune she'd probably learned from school. The oversized backpack bounced awkwardly against her tiny frame as she twirled happily through the enormous living room.

Then suddenly she stopped.

She turned back toward him.

"Dad... where's mom?"

The innocence in her voice nearly killed him.

"I'm hungry."

James froze.

His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

What was he supposed to say?

That her mother walked away?

Maybe she wasn't coming back?

That he himself didn't know if she'd ever return?

His thoughts spiraled violently before he grabbed onto the first lie he could find.

"She went to get something," he said quickly. "She's coming back. Daddy's going to order takeout, okay? Let's go."

Lisa nodded immediately.

Because, of course, she believed him.

James swallowed hard.

Yes.

Kate would come back.

She had to.

Maybe she stopped to cool off.

Maybe she just needed space.

Maybe tomorrow she'd walk through the door apologizing.

She had to come back.

Not for him.

For Lisa.

There was no way she'd leave their daughter behind.

No way.

Ding dong.

The doorbell rang.

Lisa gasped loudly.

"Mom!"

She sprinted toward the door before James could even react, the teddy bear nearly slipping from her arms as excitement burst across her face.

She had been waiting patiently all morning.

And now her mom was finally home.

James' chest tightened painfully as he followed behind her.

For a second—

He hoped it was her too.

Maybe she'd laugh awkwardly.

Maybe she'd apologise.

Maybe she'd say she overreacted.

He opened the door.

He had thought it was her, hoped it was her, he wanted to hug her, maybe she'd apologise, but the person that faces him wasn't her, what was her expecting he ordered take out and he got it.

For maybe half a second, Lisa's smile vanished completely.

It happened so quickly that most people would've missed it.

The tiny crack in her expression.

The disappointment was flooding her eyes.

The way her lips trembled slightly before she forced them still again.

She looked like she wanted to cry.

But instead, she glanced toward James.

And somehow, impossibly, she noticed the grief on his face first.

So she swallowed her own disappointment.

Without saying anything, she quietly hurried away toward the kitchen.

James stood frozen at the doorway long after the deliveryman left.

His daughter had just comforted herself because she was worried about him falling apart.

That realization hollowed him out.

He stepped inside carrying the food bags slowly.

"Food's here, Lisa."

No answer.

His eyes darted around the room immediately.

The couch.

The hallway.

Under the dining table.

Fear crawled up his spine instantly.

"Lisa?"

His breathing quickened.

The apartment suddenly felt far too large.

He could've sworn she was standing beside him just seconds ago.

Then suddenly—

"I'm here, Daddy!"

Lisa emerged from the kitchen holding two spoons proudly in her hands, a massive smile stretched across her face as if nothing had happened.

Relief hit James so hard his knees nearly gave out.

He crouched slightly toward her.

"There's usually spoons packed with the food," he said absentmindedly.

Immediately, Lisa's smile began to falter.

"Oh..."

Panic flashed across James' face.

"But let's use yours," he hurriedly added. "Yours are better anyway."

Her face brightened again instantly.

"Okay!"

And then—

Ring.

Both of them froze.

Not the doorbell this time.

A phone.

Somewhere inside the apartment.

Ringing.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The sound echoed through the enormous living room.

James slowly turned toward the kitchen counter.

His phone.

Still sitting there.

The screen lit up brightly against the marble countertop.

One missed call.

Then another immediately after it.