For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I tried the key. It didn’t fit. I turned around, surprised… and then I saw them. Two suitcases. Mine. Neatly placed by the front door, as if checking in for a flight.
There was a yellow sticky note hanging on the doorknob. I sat on the porch and, with a shaking hand, peeled it off.
“Thank you for everything. Time to rest. Your room at the nursing home is paid for for the year. The taxi money is in the envelope. Thomas thinks it was YOUR IDEA. So if you ever want to see the children again, follow MY PLAN. Delia.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The cake box shifted to the side. The icing smeared on the lid.
I looked up at the door. No sound. No movement. Not even a light was on.
“Is she really…?”
The thought bubbled in my stomach like ice water.
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