I went to pick up my wife from work like I did every evening. It was a routine we both cherished—our small moment of connection after a long day. As I pulled up outside her office building, I glanced at the dashboard clock. I was a few minutes early. Perfect. She always appreciated when I was there waiting for her.
I watched as people trickled out of the building, some chatting, others rushing toward their cars or waiting for rides. But my wife wasn’t among them. That was odd. She was usually one of the first to leave. I checked my phone—no messages. Maybe she was finishing up something important. I sent her a quick text: “Hey, I’m here.” No response.
Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. I started to get a little worried. She always texted if she was running late. I decided to go inside and check.
The lobby was nearly empty, save for a security guard behind the desk. He looked up as I approached. “Can I help you?”
“I’m just waiting for my wife. She hasn’t come out yet. Do you know if she’s still upstairs?”
He frowned slightly. “What’s her name?”
I told him, expecting him to call up or check something on his computer. Instead, his expression darkened. “Sir, I don’t think she was in today.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? She left for work this morning like usual.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been here all day. I didn’t see her come in.”
I pulled out my phone and called her. Straight to voicemail. I called again. Same thing. A cold wave of fear swept over me. Where was she?
I hurried outside and started retracing my steps in my mind. Did she say anything unusual this morning? Had she seemed off? I remembered her giving me a quick kiss goodbye, saying she’d see me later. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I called her best friend. “Hey, have you heard from Sarah today?”
There was a pause on the other end. “No, why?”
“She’s not here. The security guy says she never came to work.”
Silence. Then, “That doesn’t make sense. She texted me earlier saying she had a busy day ahead.”
My pulse raced. Something was very wrong. I drove home, hoping to find some clue. The house was exactly as we had left it. Her keys weren’t on the counter, and her work bag wasn’t by the door. It looked like she had left for work, but she had never arrived.
I sat down, my mind racing with possibilities. Had she been in an accident? Had someone taken her? Had she… chosen to disappear?
Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
“Stop looking for her.”
My blood ran cold. My wife was missing, and someone didn’t want me to find her. But they had no idea who they were dealing with.
I wasn’t going to stop.
