The house was silent when I stepped inside, a stark contrast to the usual chaos that greeted me after a business trip. My suitcase thudded softly on the wooden floor, the echo lingering far longer than it should have. I glanced around, expecting Sophie to bound down the hallway, her laughter spilling over as she always did, arms outstretched, ready to leap into my embrace. But there was only stillness.
I felt a knot tighten in my chest. Sophie was eight, and her joy was usually irrepressible. I shrugged off my jacket and left it on the couch, my mind unable to shake the feeling that something was off. The door was still unlocked, a small detail that seemed suddenly significant.
