Page 32 of Lies in Promises
So many scenarios start churning in my head, but not a single one makes sense.
The panic from earlier comes back, but this time, it’s amplified beyond belief.
I have to go find her, but where?
Her father’s house might be a good starting point.
Before storming out of the room to go look for my wife, I try to calm myself down. Running out will only scare the kids, and right now, them being terrified over something happening to their mom is not a good idea.
I put the DVD player back on the bed as soon as I’m able to bring up a mask, one that says I’m not worried, one that tells my kids everything is okay.
“I’m going to go to your Abuelo’s house to see if your mom is there, okay? Don’t leave the room,” I say to Grayson and Elliot, my voice shaking slightly.
Both boys nod, and I leave before they can ask if they can go with me. For good measure, I lock the bedroom door.
As I walk out of the house, I take a second to think. Something is wrong. I know it is. This isn’t a simple trip to the store, or Marisela needing a few hours to herself. There’s more to it. There is something dark looming.
I walk the one hundred feet that separates my home from my father-in-law’s. With each passing step, it feels as if another two hundred await me. The strange feeling I’ve felt since breakfast is overly present, as if trying to tell me whatever is on the other side of the door isn’t good.
Something dark is waiting for me, and I have confirmation as soon as I walk in.
Blood.
There is blood everywhere—smeared on the walls, as if someone was trying to run away, pooled on the tile flooring.
Bile rises up my throat as I walk deeper into the house. My whole body shakes when I come across the first body, and then the second, and then the third.
All three bodies are covered in blood and getting colder by the second.
I shouldn’t feel relief at a time like this, but I do, because none of the three bodies is Marisela.
It’s her family—her father and brother—but not her.
Relief and gratitude swarm me, but it doesn’t last long, because soon, I’m searching the house for my wife. When I don’t find her, I come to one conclusion.
Marisela may not be dead in this house, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dead somewhere else.
It’s possible she walked in and the killer, whoever the fuck he may be, took her.
I need to find her.
I need to make sure she is still alive.
I need to know she is fucking okay.
But I need to make sure our kids are safe first and foremost before I go searching for her. I need to make sure they aren’t in harm’s way. I need to make sure they aren’t next.
I need to get them away from here.
Given that the only family they’ve known is dead and their mother is missing or dead herself, they aren’t safe. I need to do everything in my power to protect them. I need to take them somewhere they won’t be harmed, but where?
There is only one place I know that is far enough.
Chicago.
If the killers were smart, they would have looked into every single person tied to my father-in-law, but if they weren’t and didn’t do any research, especially into who I am, there’s a possibility they don’t know I have family in the States or that said family is well off.
Taking the kids to Chicago, to Bennett and Henry, so I can come back and look for Marisela, is the only option. It’s the only way to keep them safe.
