*(Arthur's POV)*
Maya dabbed each tear beneath the white hospital lights without disturbing her makeup. The doctor confirmed a panic attack and nothing more.
Chloe's face before I left kept intruding. When annoyed, she pressed her lips together. When hurt, she looked aside. Tonight, she had smiled without either tell.
I left Maya at the hospital and drove the Aston Martin home through deserted streets.
I burst through the front door. "Chloe! I'm back!"
No answer. The house stood dark and empty.
"Chloe?" I searched the ground floor, then threw open the bedroom door. Empty. I ran into the dressing room.
Half her clothes were gone. Every designer gown and cocktail dress I had bought for our public life remained.
Her cashmere sweaters, worn jeans, and simple linen dresses had vanished.
