Chapter 11

As soon as Clifford opened the door, he was met with silence. The living room was empty. Lilibeth was gone. The slippers she always wore were nowhere in sight, and even the throw blanket she loved to curl up in had been neatly folded, as if no one had ever touched it. He furrowed his brow at that sight. Without hesitation, he headed upstairs. But there were no familiar footsteps, no cheerful voice calling him "honey" as Lilibeth ran into his arms. There wasn't even the sound of a slamming door—the kind Lilibeth made when she was throwing a tantrum. The entire house felt as silent as the grave. Clifford's frown deepened. Then, he opened the bedroom door. Yet, her closet was empty, and the skincare products were gone from the vanity. Even the book she always kept on her nightstand was missing. The room was spotless, like no one had ever lived there. Right then, Joel trailed in behind Clifford. "Mr. Sinclair, is Ms. Quimby not home?" he asked cautiously. With an indifferent l