Chapter 45 — Where is she?

***Alex***

"Daddy," my little one's voice reaches me as soon as I enter the house, "You've come just in time for dinner!"

"Yes, sweetheart, wouldn't miss our dinner for anything!" I scoop her up into my arms, embracing her tightly.

"And what about Miss Harper? Isn't she coming for dinner tonight?" she asks, curious, wanting to wriggle out of my arms. There's still a hint of hurt in her voice, for Harper not accepting her gift.

"No, darling. She'll be arriving late, and Daddy has already told you what happens to those who are late for dinner, hasn't he? They go to bed without supper!" I take her tiny hand in mine, and we head to the dining room.

Laurie is dressed in her favorite cozy pajamas, a soft fleece onesie adorned with colorful cartoon characters, providing warmth against the chilly night air. Her rosy cheeks reflect the excitement of seeing her father after a long day apart.

As we enter the dining room, the aroma of a hearty meal fills the air, tantalizing our senses. The table is adorned with a feast fit for a king: succulent roasted chicken, steaming mashed potatoes smothered in rich gravy, and an array of vibrant vegetables glistening with butter. The flickering candlelight casts a warm glow over the scene, creating an atmosphere of comfort and contentment.

Despite the absence of Miss Harper, our family dinner is a cherished tradition, a time for us to bond and share stories of our day. And as Laurie takes her seat at the table, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, I can't help but feel grateful for these moments of togetherness amidst the hustle and bustle of life.

I take my little one to her room, grabbing The Little Prince book to read. I anticipate that Harper should arrive within about forty minutes, drenched. Surely, she will want to argue, and I don't want Laurie to be awake to see her complaining. In no time, my little daughter drifts off to sleep.

I descend to the living room, shedding my suit, which I toss into a corner, and loosening my tie. The room is dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the walls. The faint scent of vanilla candles fills the air, adding a touch of warmth to the cozy atmosphere.

I pour myself a double shot of whiskey and settle onto the plush sofa, the soft cushions enveloping me in comfort. I position myself right in front of the door, where I have a clear view of the rain pouring down outside. The rhythmic patter of the rain against the windows provides a soothing backdrop to my thoughts.

The rain intensifies, drumming relentlessly against the roof and windows. Still no sign of Harper. The minutes tick by slowly, each one stretching into an eternity. I pour another shot, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. Perhaps she sought shelter under a tree, hoping the rain would ease. An hour goes by, and I begin to feel a gnawing sense of unease creeping over me.

I turn on the TV, the flickering screen casting eerie shadows across the room. I flip through the channels, the sound of static filling the air before settling on a talk show featuring an actress who recently went through a high-profile divorce. On another channel, a series about teenage monsters plays out, the eerie music adding to the tension in the room. I stop on the third channel, an American football game, although I'm not particularly fond of the sport.

However, the regular programming is abruptly interrupted by breaking news from the local station, the urgent voice of the news anchor cutting through the static. They warn people not to leave their homes, or wherever they are, as the rain is relentless and will not let up throughout the night. Live footage shows the fog blanketing the city, the streets deserted and shrouded in mist. It's strange. It's quite rare for this to happen. The last time, Sarah had the accident.

I feel a tremor wash over me, a cold shiver running down my spine.

Where is she?

Thunder rumbles and the windows light up with successive flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows that dance across the room. I grasp the car keys, but a sudden cry from the first floor makes me release them and rush up the stairs, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the hallway.

I quickly enter Laurie's room, the door creaking softly as it swings open, and I find her sitting on the bed, her small frame trembling with fear. The room is dimly lit by a bedside lamp, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the storm raging outside.

Laurie's nanny is already by her side, her comforting presence a soothing contrast to the chaos of the storm. Together, we approach Laurie, her tear-streaked face a picture of distress.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Daddy's here, my love!" I say, my voice a gentle reassurance amidst the thunderous cacophony outside.

"I'm here too, Laurie!" Her nanny adds, her tone filled with warmth and compassion.

Laurie looks up at us with wide, tear-filled eyes, her lower lip trembling as she speaks. "I don't like thunder, Daddy," she says between loud sobs, her words punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder.

My heart aches at the sight of her distress. It's been a while since I've seen Laurie cry so much, and it breaks my heart to see her so frightened. I sit on the edge of her bed and gather her into my arms, holding her close in a protective embrace.

"Come here, sweetheart, Daddy's here and the thunder is outside," I whisper softly, my voice a soothing murmur in her ear.

"Are you going to stay here?" she asks, her voice quivering with anxiety.

"Of course, sweetheart," I reply, my voice filled with love and reassurance. "I'll stay right here with you until the storm passes."

Turning to the nanny, I give her a reassuring nod. "Anna, please, make us some chamomile tea, okay? Extra strong."

"I will, Mr. Montreal, right away," she replies, her voice calm and steady as she moves to fulfill my request, leaving Laurie and me alone in the safety of her room.

When Anna returns with the tea, I serve both Laurie and myself, dismissing the nanny with a nod, indicating that I will take care of my daughter myself. After we finish the comforting drink, I kick off my shoes and socks and lie down beside her on the bed. She nestles her head against my shoulder, just like she used to when she was a baby. To me, she'll always be my baby girl.

As the storm rages on outside, we lie there together, the sound of the raindrops tapping against the windowpane providing a rhythmic backdrop to our peaceful moment of solace. I wrap my arm around her, holding her close as she drifts off to sleep, her breathing slowly evening out as she succumbs to the soothing embrace of slumber.

Eventually, the tension drains from her small frame, and her grip on my shirt loosens as she slips into a peaceful slumber. With a tender smile, I press a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering words of love and reassurance as she drifts off into dreamland.

Finally, as the storm begins to subside and the darkness of night envelops us, I too feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at my eyelids. With Laurie safely cradled in my arms, I allow myself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that we are safe and sound, together in our cocoon of warmth and love.