She pulled Tommy into her arms, cooing softly to comfort him.
I was frantic, pacing in circles like an ant on a hot pan.
"Austin, our daughter is missing. Come help me look for her."
He dragged himself off the couch, languid and unhurried. "Zoey, you're overthinking this. She's probably just having fun. She'll be back any minute."
My mother-in-law chimed in with some embarrassing story about Austin falling asleep in a grass nest as a kid.
"Back then, Austin played until he was exhausted and napped in a haystack the whole afternoon. We searched everywhere, and he still wandered home on his own eventually."
I knew exactly what they were doing. Every word, every distraction—all of it was to stall for time.
The village cellar had been dug deep.
My daughter and I both suffocated to death in our previous life.
My phone buzzed twice.
Maya is with me. I found that person.
The weight crushing my chest finally lifted. I kept my voice flat. "You were right. She probably just wandered off to play."
Half an hour later, my mother-in-law muttered, "Why isn't Maya back yet? Austin, go find her. Dinner's almost ready."
Austin yanked me up from the couch where I'd been calmly watching TV.