Emily’s the one who’s always there for her, helping with homework, driving her to soccer practice, and tucking her in at night. I wish I could say I was there more but work always got in the way.
To anyone on the outside, I’m living the dream. But the truth is, I’ve been so wrapped up in my work that I missed the little moments with my family. I somehow convinced myself I was doing it all for them, but I was really doing it for that kid inside me who never wanted to feel poor again.
That’s why, on the day when I came home to a house that was disturbingly quiet, I didn’t think much of it at first.
That day, I had stayed late at the office, working on a big deal that would bring in more money than I’d ever imagined. As I returned home and entered the house, I felt a bit strange because the house was dark.
I walked through the front door and called out, “Emily? Mia?”
No answer.
Then, I flicked on the living room lights, squinting against the sudden brightness.
This was weird because Emily’s car was in the driveway, and she hadn’t left any message saying they’d go anywhere.
I quickly went through the house, checking the bedrooms, bathrooms, and even the laundry room.
Nothing. No signs of my girls anywhere.
I stood there for a moment and scratched my head as I tried to figure out where they could be.
Maybe they went to her sister’s house, I thought.
Emily and her sister were close, and it wasn’t unusual for them to have impromptu get-togethers. Still, something didn’t feel right.
Feeling puzzled, I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water as I still thought about my girls.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mia’s lunchbox. It was sitting in the middle of the kitchen table like it was waiting for me.
Emily always cleaned the kitchen after dinner, and I was sure she wouldn’t miss Mia’s lunchbox while doing so. I could tell this was unusual.
So, I put down my glass and walked over to the table. I stood there for a few seconds, staring at the pink lunchbox that would soon turn my life upside down.
I don’t know why, but I opened it.
I thought I’d see a half-eaten sandwich inside, but instead, I was greeted with a folded-up piece of paper. I pulled it out and immediately recognized Emily’s handwriting. It wasn’t the neat, organized script she usually used, but hurried, almost angry.
If you’re reading this, it’s too late, the note read.
C’mon, Mia! I thought. I know it’s you.
My first thought was that Mia had teamed up with her mother to pull some TikTok prank on me because she was always picking up jokes and challenges from her friends. At that point, I almost laughed, thinking she’d gotten one over on me.
But as I unfolded the note, my heart sank.
It wasn’t from Mia, and it said:
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