Page 49 of Destiny

When we pull up to the house, my heart is full, knowing how much she loves my children. But my blood soon turns cold after walking in and not hearing any noise. I expected to hear the television on, at minimum.

“Hello?” I call out in terror. My eyes are darting from side to side.

“Marco? What’s wrong?”

“It’s too quiet.”

She pulls out her phone and confirms that she didn’t get any call during dinner. I do the same.

Then, we go together and check the kitchen, dining room, and rest of the house. Nothing.

“Oh, my God.” I’m trying not to panic, but how can I not?

“Marco!” Bea screams. The counter is in the way, so I can’t see where her hand is pointing right away, but when I get closer, it is clear that the door leading into the garage is open to a crack.

I parked in the driveway, so we didn’t come through that way into the house. I open the door fully, turn on the overhead light, and scan the concrete slab.

“Nothing,” I report.

“What the heck?” She’s chewing on her nails.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“Daddy?” I finally hear from behind me, and it’s like music to my ears.

I turn around and see Alessia’s innocent little face.

“Oh, thank God.”

I rush to her and bring her up for a hug.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where is your sister?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t find her.”

Then, the dread is starting to sink back in.

“What do you mean?”

“She and grandma went to hide, but I can’t find them.”

I feel Bea place a hand on my shoulder. “They were playing hide and seek.”

“Oh.” I feel a little foolish for getting so worked up. However, the fact that Caroline has had mobility problems lately comes to the forefront of my mind. “We need to find grandma,” I instruct my daughter and Bea simultaneously.

“Yay!” Alessia squeals.

But Bea better understands the situation, so she just nods. We each take rooms and start our diligent search.

“Aurora! No fair! We said you couldn’t go in the cabinet!” I hear Alessia say.

“Sorry,” her sister responds.

I’m in the guest room and am trying to decipher where an older woman might try to hide. I decided first to check the most obvious place—the closet.

“Marco?” I hear a weak voice call from under a pile of clothes that appear to have been ripped off the cylinder rack.

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