THE WASHING MACHINE KEPT MAKING NOISES FOR THREE NIGHTS AFTER MY WIFE VANISHED. WHEN I OPENED THE BOTTOM PANEL, MY BLOOD TURNED TO ICE

the hallway and saw Emily asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs, her notebook lying open beside her.

She was home.

Alive.

Safe.

And for the first time since the night she disappeared, I truly believed we were too.

THE END