The Day My Five‑Year‑Old Disappeared

I didn't know how I made it home. I only remembered that when Chester drove over to pick me up, my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I had crushed the cake box in my grip. Cream leaked out, sticky and smeared all over my hands."You're fine, Sophie. Once we're home, get some sleep, and you'll feel better," he said, steering with one hand and holding mine with the other.His palm was warm, yet it sent a chill through me. Everything felt wrong, deeply wrong, but I couldn't explain why. My mind was foggy, my thoughts tangled, and I couldn't think straight.The car rolled into the familiar underground garage and stopped in the parking space we had used for five years. The elevator went up, the numbers increasing along with the rate of my pounding heartbeat.Chester must've picked Dorothy up without telling me. This had to be a prank. Everything was fine. Dorothy had to be at home.The elevator chimed, and we arrived on the 12th floor. I unlocked our door and didn't even bother changing my

Pudding yelped in pain and bolted.When Chester looked up and saw me standing at the end of the hallway, his face immediately melted into a gentle smile. "You're up. Why didn't you sleep in?"I locked my gaze on his eyes, forcing down the storm raging inside me. "Oh, I just needed to use the bathroom."To make him let his guard down, I played the obedient patient for three days straight. I took my medicine on time, never mentioned Dorothy again, and even offered to redecorate the apartment the way I liked it.I went to work as usual. Even my colleagues occasionally teased, "Finally taking it easy, huh? Don't you need to pick up your kid these days?"I simply smiled and shook my head, revealing nothing. Inside, I was forming bold guesses. I had no idea if I was being watched, so I trod carefully, keeping up the facade I had built.Chester was clearly pleased, seeing that he had relaxed his watch over me.This morning, he even left early for a company emergency. The moment the fro

Based on what Chester said on the phone, I tracked down a place called St. Mary's Welfare Home. It wasn't in the suburbs at all, more like deep in the mountains, more than 60 miles west.I stealthily slipped out of the apartment. Outside, rain poured hard, with thunder rolling overhead. I drove the old Honda Fit we used for grocery runs, tearing along the muddy mountain roads.About two hours later, the car died halfway up the mountain. I abandoned it and continued on foot. The rain nearly blinded me, and there were no streetlights or people. The mountain path was treacherous, every step a test from the sky.I didn't stop, though. Hatred, fear, and worry pushed me forward. At last, I saw lights glowing at the pitch-black mountaintop.Instead of calling it a welfare home, the place looked more like a prison than an orphanage. There were high walls, electric fencing, and guard dogs pacing at the gate.I didn't enter through the front like an impulsive person would. Enduring the poun

At 10:00 am, the press conference commenced in the top-floor ballroom of Grant Group.Chester stood under the spotlight in a custom white suit. He held the hand of Anna Ziegler, the heiress of the Ziegler family. He looked like a prince, gentle, polished, and deeply in love."Thank you all for witnessing Anna and me get engaged," he said. "And thank you, Mr. Ziegler, for investing ten billion dollars into Grant Group."His voice carried through the microphone, filling the ballroom and streaming live into homes across the country."Before I met Anna, I went through a painful marriage," he continued. "My ex-wife struggled with mental illness and lived trapped in her own delusions… It's sad, but I did everything I could."A wave of sympathy swept through the crowd. Everyone murmured about how devoted he had been.A cold, clear voice cut through the chatter. "Really? So, you did everything you could to sell your daughter on the black market, huh?"The doors swung open, and I walked