Ethan’s mind stumbled over the revelation. Care…a lot…? Who could it be? The old age home. He swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it. The receipts, the hidden visits, the sudden vanishings—it wasn’t about a stranger or betrayal. It wasn’t about romance.
“Do you…know which resident she saw?” Ethan asked, gripping the edge of the table.
The manager shook his head. “No. She never said. Always left quietly afterward. I thought maybe a relative…or someone she knew long ago. She seemed…protective. Tender, even.”
Ethan stepped back, blinking. Protective. Tender. His pulse slowed slightly as comprehension began to thread through the panic. Lina hadn’t disappeared for some secret lover. She had been…helping someone. Someone who needed her care, her attention. And now, hours later, with a newborn in her arms, she was probably still making sure that person was safe before returning to him.
His chest eased a little, replaced by a cautious hope. He needed to see her. He needed to understand. And above all, he needed to find Lina—his wife, and their baby—before worry gnawed any further at the edges of reason.
Ethan pressed his hands to his face, trying to steady his racing thoughts. Each unanswered question formed a shadow that loomed larger than the last. Who was she visiting at the old age home? Why all the secrecy? And most urgently—was his wife, and their newborn, safe?
The manager watched him carefully. “I’m sorry… I wish I could tell you more,” he said quietly. “She never let anyone in on it. But she cared… that much was clear.”
Ethan exhaled shakily, realizing the weight in that single word: cared. It wasn’t betrayal, it wasn’t danger—at least, not yet. It was responsibility, devotion, love… for someone who had no one else. And maybe that explained why she’d vanished without a word: she had to make sure they were alright before returning to her own family.
Determined, Ethan pulled out his phone. He would go to the old age home. He would find Lina, hold her, and understand. Every minute counted. Every street corner, every hall, every room could hold the answers—and he wasn’t leaving until he had them.