Cedrick's POVHer desk was empty.I stood in the doorway of the office I'd created for her at the school and looked at the clean surface and the neatly stacked files and the pen sitting in its holder. Her scent was there but faded, hours old, the residue of someone who had been here yesterday and hadn't returned.I checked with the headmaster. He confirmed Beatrice hadn't come in that morning. No call, no message, no explanation. I asked if this had happened before. He said no. In three years, she had never missed a day.I went to her house.The front door was unlocked. The garden was quiet, the rocking horse sitting in the sun, the half-built fort standing in the corner with its crooked walls and its painted patches drying in the warm air. I walked inside and found the rooms empty. Her bag was gone. Elan's bed was unmade, the sheets pulled back, his wooden horse missing from the pillow where it always sat.A note lay on the kitchen table. Beatrice's handwriting, quick and uneven, wri
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