Dominic
I got home late in the evening, later than I planned and later than I liked. The trip dragged, meetings stacked on meetings, and by the time the car rolled through the gates of the house, all I wanted was a shower, food, and Madelyn’s voice complaining that I didn’t call enough. That was our normal. That was what my body expected without thinking.
But the house was quiet, and it felt wrong the moment I stepped inside.
I stepped out of the car and handed my briefcase to one of the staff. The lights were on downstairs, but the place didn’t feel lived in. There was no movement, no sound of heels on marble, no voice floating down the stairs asking why I didn’t announce my arrival.
I walked in anyway, loosening my tie as I crossed the living room.
“Madelyn?” I called.
No response
