I woke up alone in our hotel room in Bangkok. My husband, his mother, my phone, passport, and flight home had all disappeared

wall.

“Checked out?”

“Yes, ma’am. He checked out with two other guests.”

“Did he leave anything for me?”

Another pause.

“There is an envelope on the bedside table, ma’am.”

I turned.

I hadn’t noticed it beneath the edge of the decorative cushion.

Inside was a single folded piece of paper.

Four words were written across it in Ethan’s familiar handwriting.

Figure it out yourself.

Beneath his message, in the sharp, unmistakable handwriting of his mother, Susan, was another sentence.

Let’s see who comes looking for you now.

I read both