Chapter 9
After dropping Renee off, Finley tried to leave, but she latched onto his arm. “You’re leaving me alone again? Finley, you know I
hate being by myself.”
“Call your manager or someone else,” Finley replied. “I need to get back. It’s Claire’s birthday, and I promised her I’d spend it
with her.”
His–eyes
His eyes flicked to his watch. It was late, and he wasn’t sure if Claire was even home. Thinking back to how she’d acted earlier, a
knot formed in his stomach.
Pregnant women were more sensitive, he reminded himself, more emotional. But when the fire alarm had gone off, he hadn’t.
thought about her or the baby. That guilt weighed heavy on him
Renee pouted. “Fine, but you’d better spend tomorrow with me.”
“We’ll see.”
When he got home, he opened the door to a dark, silent living room. No Claire:
On nights when he came home late, she used to wait for him there, knitting tiny clothes for the baby..
But tonight, there was nothing. Just emptiness.
“Claire?” Finley called, his voice uncertain. No response.
His eyes fell on the wall where Claire used to hang baby–themed pictures. They were gone.
“Emma!” he barked, anger bubbling up.
Emma rushed in. “Mr. Lloyd, you’re back.”
muhere are the p “Where are the pictures that were on this wall? What happened to them?”
“Mrs. Lloyd tore them down,” Emma said cautiously. “She did it a few days ago.”
A few days ago. He hadn’t even noticed.
“Really?” Finley frowned, the realization hitting hard. “Where’s Claire?”
