I walked faster. The living room looked normal at first. Furniture untouched. Her coat still hanging where she always left it. Shoes lined up neatly by the door.
Then I stopped.
The wall.
Empty.
Every photo was gone. Wedding photos. Family pictures. The ones with Ryle sitting between us, grinning with his missing teeth. The frames were still there. Clean. Bare.
My chest tightened hard.
I grabbed the servant. “Where are the photos?”
They hesitated. “A few days ago, sir. After Madam came back… she ordered all pictures with you and the young master burned. She watched them herself. She said none were to be kept.”
My ears rang.
Burned?
She used to dust those frames every morning even before she got kidnapped. Scold anyone who touched them. She said they were proof we existed.
I walked into the bedroom. The closet was full. Her clothes still there. Dresses. Coats. Even the white ones she loved.
She took nothing.
Only erased us.
My phone rang.
Roxanne.
Her voice was weak, trembling. “David… where are you? I woke up and you weren’t here. I dreamed about the babies. I’m scared.”
I looked around the empty house again. At the photos that used to prove I had a family.
“I’m on my way,” I said automatically.