“Lisa? It’s me.” Silence. She rang the bell, waited. The hollow chime echoed through the still house. Helen leaned closer to the window, squinting through a narrow gap in the curtain. The kitchen was spotless, too spotless. No dishes in the sink. No lunchboxes or backpacks by the counter. Even the family photos that usually lined the wall were gone.
Her heart sank. She moved along the side of the house, peering through the living-room window. Cardboard boxes, stacked neatly in the corner. Her hand tightened on the bag. Had they moved? Without saying a word? Her phone felt heavy in her palm. She called Lisa and was put to voicemail. Then David, voicemail again. The sound of it made her stomach twist.