CHAPTER 12 – TOM
CHICAGOIt was a boiling hot morning, the day that Mildred went missing. Tom had woken up naturally, which was strange in itself. Usually, he would be roused by the sound of Clara entering the room and pulling apart his curtains. He checked the clock on the bedside table. It was already gone 8am. Something wasn’t right.
And sure enough, Clara burst into the room ten or so minutes later, when he had already sat up and begun to dress himself. Not only was she late, but her usually perfect curls were dishevelled, and she looked as if she’d been crying.
She composed herself as she neared the bed, swallowed hard and smiled at him.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Mason. Your breakfast.”
“Thank you. Is everything… are you OK?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, busying herself with tucking in a
