Lauren didn't wake up screaming.
That scared Grace more than if she had.
She woke quietly, confused, sitting up on the couch as if she had forgotten where she was. For a moment, she simply stared at the wall.
Then reality rushed back.
"Any news?" Lauren asked, her voice flat.
Grace shook her head.
"No calls. No messages."
Lauren pressed her fingers into her temples.
"They told me not to get my hopes up," she said softly. "They said disappearances like this usually mean one of two things."
Grace waited.
"Either the person wanted to vanish," Lauren continued, her voice trembling, "or someone helped them do it."
Grace's jaw tightened.
Mark hadn't wanted to vanish.
They both knew that.
Later that morning, two detectives arrived.
They asked the same questions again. Timelines. Habits. Friends. Enemies.
"What was his emotional state recently?" one of them asked.
Lauren laughed bitterly.
"Happy," she said. "We were planning a vacation. He was talking about repainting the kitchen."
Grace watched the detective write that down.
Happy didn't fit the narrative they wanted.
When the detectives left, Lauren collapsed into Grace's arms.
"I don't know how to exist without him," she whispered.
Grace held her tighter.
"You don't have to figure that out today."
That afternoon, Grace made a call she had hoped she'd never need to make again.
Detective Harris.
"This isn't random," Grace said as soon as he answered. "You know that."
There was a pause.
"Yes," Harris replied. "I was hoping you were wrong."
Grace told him everything.
The envelope.The messages.The timing.
And now, Mark.
"I can't officially connect this yet," Harris said carefully. "But I don't believe in coincidences."
Neither did Grace.
That night, Lauren refused to be alone.
Grace stayed.
They sat in silence, the TV playing something neither of them watched.
At 11:47 p.m., Lauren's phone buzzed.
Both of them froze.
Unknown number.
Lauren's hands shook as she held it out to Grace.
"I can't," she whispered. "I can't read it."
Grace took the phone.
One message.
No greeting.No name.
Just a location.
Coordinates.
Grace felt her heart slow instead of race.
A bad sign.
Then another message appeared.
You wanted proof.
Grace's blood ran cold.
Outside, the wind rattled the windows.
Lauren started to cry.
And in that moment, Grace understood something with terrifying clarity.
This wasn't about fear anymore.
Ted wasn't hiding.
He was inviting them to follow.