The restaurant glowed with soft golden light, the kind designed to make time slow and worries disappear. Crystal

glasses clinkedked quietly. Low music drifted between tables. Adrienne sat

comfortably in his chair, jacket perfectly tailored, posture relaxed in a way it rarely was outside carefully

controlled spaces. Across from him, his lover spoke animatedly, her laughter

light, effortless, confident. On the table between them, Adrienne’s phone vibrated. Once he glanced down

instinctively, his wife’s name lit the screen. He didn’t pick it up. He turned

the phone face down beside his plate. The motion so casual it barely registered in his own mind. Dinner

wasn’t over. The night was supposed to be easy. Whatever it was, it could wait. The phone vibrated again. His lover

paused mid-sentence. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone curious but unconcerned. “Business?” Adrienne

replied smoothly. It can wait. Across the city, his wife sat alone in her car,

parked beneath a flickering street light on a quiet road she’d driven a hundred times before. The engine was still

running, her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles pale, heart racing for reasons she

couldn’t fully explain. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing. Still,

unease crept along her spine, cold and persistent. The sound she’d heard moments earlier echoed in her mind. A

dull thud near the back of the car followed by silence. Probably nothing she told herself. A passing vehicle,

loose debris. Her instincts, however, refused to settle. She unlocked her

phone and called Adrienne again. Straight to voicemail. Her throat tightened. She tried once more, fingers

trembling now. This time, she didn’t speak when the call went unanswered. She just stared at the screen as if looking

long enough might make him appear. He didn’t. Back at the restaurant, Adrienne lifted his glass, listening

half-heartedly as his lover leaned closer, lowering her voice. The world around him felt distant, insulated. He

told himself his wife worried too much. He always had. Nothing ever happened.

Nothing ever did. The phone vibrated a third time. This time, he silenced it.

Minutes passed. In the car, the silence outside grew heavier. The street felt

emptier than it should have been, the quiet unnatural. She checked her mirrors again, then glanced toward the sidewalk.

Her pulse thudded in her ears. Something about the stillness pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe. She

reached for the door handle, hesitated, then stopped. Her phone buzzed. Hope

flared, then died when she saw it wasn’t Adrien, just the time glowing back at her. She swallowed hard and tried to

steady her breathing. I’m overreacting,” she whispered aloud. The words didn’t

help. A sudden movement near the edge of her vision made her gasp. She turned sharply, heart leaping into her throat.

The sound came again, closer this time. Her instinct screamed. She unlocked the

door. The restaurant felt louder now, voices overlapping laughter ringing out.

Adrienne leaned back in his chair, unaware of the tension tightening around his own life like a noose. His lover

reached across the table, her hand brushing his wrist. You seem distracted, she said lightly. He smiled. “Just a

long week.” Outside, the woman’s car sat abandoned, driver’s door, a jar, interior light glowing faintly. Her

phone lay on the seat, screen dark at last. The street was still, too. When

the police arrived minutes later, the flashing lights shattered the quiet. Officers approached cautiously, scanning

the area. The car was empty. No sign of a struggle. No sign of the woman who had

been inside moments before. Just silence. Adrien was finishing dessert when his phone finally rang again. This

time cutting sharply through the calm of the restaurant. He frowned, irritation flashing before curiosity took over. He

answered without looking at the screen. Mr. Romano? A male voice asked. Yes,

this is the police. Something cold slid through his chest. We’ve located your wife’s vehicle,” the officer continued

carefully. It was found unattended on a side street. Adrienne stood so abruptly

his chair scraped loudly against the floor. His lover stared up at him startled. “What do you mean unattended?”

Adrien demanded. “There’s no sign of her at the scene,” the officer said. “We’re asking you to come down

immediately.” The world tilted. Adrienne ended the call without another word and grabbed his coat. His lover reached for

him, confusion giving way to concern. Adrien, what’s going on? He didn’t

answer. He was already moving. As he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him hard, sharp, and unforgiving. His

phone bust again, missed calls. Voicemails, the ones he hadn’t listened to. His wife’s name stared back at him

from the screen. For the first time that night, fear replaced irritation. He listened to the voicemail. Her voice was

quiet, strange, trying not to panic. She mentioned the sound, the strange feeling. The fear she couldn’t explain.

“I just need you to answer,” she said softly. “Please.” The message ended.

Adrienne felt sick. He drove through the city faster than he ever had, streets blurring as one thought slammed into

another. He shouldn’t have ignored her. He shouldn’t have stayed. He shouldn’t have assumed. Red and blue lights

flashed ahead. The abandoned car sat in the center of the scene, surrounded by officers. Adrien stumbled out, his

confidence evaporated, replaced by raw dread. “Where is she?” he demanded. “An

officer met his gaze serious and controlled. “That’s what we’re trying to find.” Adrienne stared at the empty

driver’s seat, the open door, the quiet street. The moment he’d ignored her call replayed in his mind with brutal

clarity, and for the first time, he understood something with terrifying certainty. Dinner had ended, but the

consequences were only just beginning. Adrienne stood frozen beside the abandoned car, the flashing lights

painting the street in harsh colors that didn’t feel real. The night air was cold against his skin, but he barely noticed.

His eyes were locked on the open driver’s door, the faint interior light still glowing as if waiting for someone

who wasn’t coming back. “Sir, we need you to step back,” an officer said calmly. Adrienne obeyed without protest,

his body moving while his mind lagged behind. He watched as another officer examined the ground near the car,

shining a flashlight along the curb, then farther down the street. The quiet was unsettling. No crowd, no witnesses,

just an empty road and a car that told a story no one could finish yet. “How long has it been like this?” Adrienne asked,

his voice strained. “Not long,” the officer replied. “We got the call a few

minutes ago.” “A call from who?” Adrienne pressed. The officer hesitated.