The freezer had been cleared out.
Every container of soup, chicken, pasta, and stew was gone.
So were the bottles of formula, the yogurt, the vegetables, the juice, and the meal-replacement drinks Claire’s doctor had recommended.
Taped to the refrigerator door was a piece of paper written in thick black marker.
Don’t call Ethan. He is working. Don’t create unnecessary drama.
Ethan slowly removed the note.
“Did my mother write this?”
Claire’s silence answered him.
