Where Have You Gone

Chapter 3️⃣6️⃣

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft patterns across Becky’s room. She stirred, her eyes heavy from last night’s tears, the weight of Sam’s photo still lingering in her chest. The house was quiet, save for the faint clatter of dishes downstairs—Irin, no doubt, preparing breakfast for Anne.

Becky lay still for a moment, tracing the familiar edges of her grief, but something felt different today. A strange undercurrent, like the air itself was holding its breath.She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing the cool floor. The smoothness of the wall where Sam’s photo now hung again called to her. She reached out, fingertips grazing the frame, and whispered, “I’ll figure this out, Sam. I promise.” But the words felt hollow, caught in the tangle of her emotions. Richie’s words about the surgery gnawed at her, and though she’d brushed him off, doubt had taken root.

Downstairs, Richie sat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee cooling in his hands. Anne was happily smearing jam on toast, her giggles filling the space. Irin moved with purpose, her face calm but her eyes distant, as if she were carrying a secret too heavy to share. Richie caught her glance, and a silent understanding passed between them—Freen’s return was a spark they had to handle with care, especially around Becky.“Morning, Bec!” Anne chirped as Becky shuffled into the kitchen, her hair still damp from a quick shower.“Hey, kiddo,” Becky replied, forcing a smile. “You’re in a good mood today.”“Always!” Anne grinned, oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Becky could feel that Richie is also with them there. “You’re quiet this morning,” she said, her tone probing.

Richie looked up, his expression carefully neutral. “Just thinking. Long day ahead.”

“Uh-huh.” Becky wasn’t convinced, but she let it slide, her mind already drifting back to the unease that had settled in her gut. She took a bite of toast, chewing slowly, as Irin set a glass of orange juice in front of her.

“I’ve got some errands to run today,” Irin announced, her voice steady but clipped.

“Richie, you’re on Anne duty. Becky, are you good to hold down the fort?”

“Sure,” Becky said, though her curiosity piqued. Irin’s errands felt like a cover for something more, but pressing her now, in front of Anne, wouldn’t get her anywhere.

“Anything I should know about?” Irin hesitated, just a fraction of a second, but Becky caught it, her way of sensing things around her is unbelievably good “Nothing major,” Irin said, flashing a quick smile.

“Just some loose ends to tie up.”Becky nodded, but the knot in her stomach tightened. She hated this—sensing something was off but being kept in the dark. It was like being a kid again, when Richie and their parents would exchange looks she couldn’t decipher. She pushed the thought aside, focusing on Anne’s chatter about her favorite cartoon.

Across town, in the same posh cafe where Irin had met Freen the day before, Freen sat alone at a corner table. The garden view was as serene as yesterday, but her mind was a storm. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of a napkin, folding and unfolding it as she replayed Irin’s words: “She’s been waiting for you in ways you can’t even imagine.” The promise she’d made weighed heavily—convincing Becky to agree to the surgery was no small task, especially without revealing who she was. Not yet.

Bright appeared at her side, his presence steady as always. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low. “Keeping it from her… it’s a risk.”

Freen’s jaw tightened. “I know. But if I tell her now, before she’s ready, it’ll break her. She’s not just mourning Sam—she’s mourning the future she thought they’d have. I need to earn her trust first.”