A few days before everything happened, Daria called me.
“We’re taking Grandma out,” she said. “A nice seaside dinner. Something special.”
I paused, surprised.
That didn’t sound like her. Or Alan.
Still, I didn’t push it. “That’s… nice,” I replied.
I was supposed to join them, but I had a work meeting I couldn’t reschedule. So I suggested we move it to another night.
“No, it’s fine,” Alan cut in. “It’s just dinner. We’ve got it.”
Something about his tone didn’t sit right with me.
But I let it go.
I shouldn’t have.
I was halfway through my meeting when my phone rang. I ignored the first call, but when it rang again, I glanced down.
Grandma.
She never called twice unless something was wrong.
I excused myself, stepped into the hallway, and sat down before answering.
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart…” Her voice was soft, shaky—like she’d been crying. “I don’t know what to do.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“They… they left,” she said. “They said they were going to the car. They never came back.”
I shot to my feet so fast the chair nearly toppled over. “What do you mean they left?”
Then, quieter, she added, “The bill came. It’s $412… and I don’t have that kind of money with me.”
“Stay right there,” I said immediately. “Don’t move. I’m coming.”
I didn’t wait for her reply.
I grabbed my bag, told my boss I had a family emergency, and left before he could ask anything.
The drive felt endless.
By the time I pulled into the restaurant parking lot, my hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly they ached.
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