No music drifting from the radio. No off-key humming from the kitchen. Just the tick of the wall clock and the low hum of the refrigerator, sounds that felt suddenly too loud.
The cake sat half-finished on the counter. Dark frosting streaked the bowl like someone had stopped mid-motion. The knife rested against the sink, and a single balloon floated near the ceiling, its ribbon caught on a cabinet handle.
“Jess?” I called, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
Callum,
I’m sorry. I can’t stay anymore.
Take care of our Evie. I made a promise to your mom, and I had to keep it. Ask her.
—J.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the paper, unable to make sense of the words. The house still smelled like chocolate frosting. Just an hour earlier, music had been playing. Jess had been in the kitchen with her hair pinned up, a smear of icing on her cheek as she worked on Evie’s birthday cake.
Five minutes after reading the note, I buckled Evie into her car seat and drove to my mother’s house. She opened the door before I knocked, her face draining of color the moment she saw me.
