Bridging World's

7

Killian

I sifted through the documents on my desk, but my mind kept wandering back to Sage. It was surprising, even to me. Just a week ago, I hadn't thought about her for six months straight, and now she was all I could think about.

Over the past week, Sage had been acting strangely. Everyone in the house noticed it. She seemed to zone out constantly, even burning some curry while cooking—something that, according to Mom, had never happened before.

She was unusually quiet, which worried Violet since they hadn’t had much time to talk this week. Sage was very close with Violet and Fredrick. They spent weekends together watching movies, playing board games, and going shopping. I hadn't even realized how close she was to my siblings.

Mom was also concerned. One time during dinner, Mom had to call Sage several times before Violet shook her out of her reverie. This happened frequently, and at night, I could feel her tossing and turning in bed. The dark circles under her eyes were becoming more pronounced. One night, I saw her get out of bed and sit on the single seater by the window, staring out with a distant look in her eyes.

I should have asked her what was bothering her, what was causing her to lose sleep and appetite. Instead, I had let it gnaw at me, distracting me from work. I closed the document in front of me with a frustrated sigh.

I pressed the intercom. "John, please get me a coffee."

"Sure, Sir," came the reply. John soon entered with my coffee, and I thanked him.

John had been my PA for two years now, and he was excellent at his job. He had made a few mistakes at first, but he was a quick learner and had become incredibly reliable.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Sir?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, you can leave for the day, John. Thank you."

He nodded and left the room. It was ten minutes past five. Maybe I should go home too. I couldn’t concentrate here.

I decided to finish my coffee and then head home. Once there, I took a shower, changed into comfortable clothes, and sat on the bed with my laptop, replying to a few emails. I was waiting for Sage. It was already 8 p.m., and she hadn’t come home yet.

Mom mentioned that she usually came home by 6:30. What was keeping her? Was she running late?

There was a knock on the door, and Mom entered. "Killian, have you called Sage? She’s not picking up my calls, and it’s getting late," she said, worry etched on her face.

"No, Mom. She might be running late. Don’t worry," I reassured her.

"No, son. If she were running late, she would have informed me. Something’s wrong. Can you try calling her?" she asked, her voice full of panic.

I stood up and picked up my phone, dialing her number. I had asked Mom for it last week, earning a disappointed look. It did sound bad to be asking for my wife’s number after six months of marriage, but I had to get it somehow.

The call went straight to voicemail. Now I was worried. Had something happened to her? Was she in an accident?

My heart started pounding as anxious thoughts filled my mind.

"I’ll go check at her café, Mom. Let me know if she calls you," I said, quickly changing my clothes and heading out to my car.

I arrived at the café to find it open. Walking inside, I noticed the absence of customers. "Sage," I called out, glancing around. My eyes fell on several broken chairs and tables scattered messily across the floor. A sense of foreboding washed over me.