Chapter 1: The Missing Boy
The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of expensive perfume and roasted appetizers.
Soft jazz played from the outdoor speakers, mingling with the polite laughter of wealthy guests.
Warm yellow string lights draped across the sprawling manicured lawn of the estate.
It was the perfect facade of a flawless high-society gathering.
But Thomas could not focus on the music or the smiling faces.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
He pushed past a group of men discussing golf.
His dark blue suit felt suffocating in the humid night air.
He had searched the house from top to bottom.
His eight-year-old son, Ethan, was nowhere to be found.
"Excuse me," Thomas muttered.
He stepped around a waiter balancing a tray of champagne flutes.
Panic began to claw at the edges of his mind.
Ethan was a timid boy, especially in large crowds.
He would never wander off without telling his father.
Thomas scanned the sea of glamorous dresses and tailored tuxedos.
He looked for his wife, Vanessa.
She was supposed to be watching the boy while Thomas greeted his business partners.
Instead, he saw her standing near the patio.
She wore a sparkling gold sequin dress that caught every glimmer of light.
She was laughing softly at something a guest had just said.
Thomas gritted his teeth and walked toward her.
He tried to keep his composure, but his pace was frantic.
He reached her side and grabbed her arm, perhaps a little too tightly.
"Vanessa," he said.
"Where is he?"
She turned to him slowly, her expression entirely unbothered.
She took a delicate sip from her crystal champagne flute.
"Where is who, darling?" she asked.
Her voice was smooth, betraying no hint of concern.
"Ethan," Thomas snapped.
He ignored the curious glance of the woman standing next to them.
"I have looked everywhere inside the house."
"He is gone."
Vanessa sighed, waving a dismissive hand.
"Oh, he is probably just hiding."
"You know how dramatic he gets around strangers."
A cold dread washed over Thomas.
He released her arm and backed away.
Something in her eyes was terribly wrong.
It was a cruel, icy indifference that he had never fully noticed until this exact moment.
He turned away from the bright lights of the party.
He looked out toward the dark, unlit edges of the estate yard.
The shadows under the ancient oak trees seemed unusually deep tonight.
A terrible instinct pulled him toward the darkness.
He began to run.
"Ethan!" he shouted.
His voice cracked, echoing loudly over the soft jazz music.
Several guests stopped and turned to stare.
Thomas did not care about the spectacle he was making.
May you like
He rushed past the glowing lanterns and plunged into the cold night air.
He just needed to find his boy.
