The sound of Knocking pulls me from a dream where I'm drowning in Rose's hair, the red strands wrapping around my throat like living vines. I gasp awake, disoriented, the dream's panic lingering as morning light filters through my blinds.

"Huh?" I croak, my voice still thick with sleep.

The door creaks open, and Chris pokes his head in, already dressed for school in his favorite blue hoodie. His hair sticks up at odd angles like he barely ran a comb through it.

"Hey Seth, can you make breakfast?" he asks, shifting from one foot to the other. "I'm starving."

I rub my eyes, squinting at the clock. It's earlier than Evelyn usually arrives, but not by much. "Is Evelyn sick or something?"

Chris shrugs, his small shoulders rising and falling under his too-big hoodie. "She's not here. I already checked."

"That's weird," I whisper, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My phone shows no missed calls or texts from her. "She didn't message me."

I consider the possibilities as I pull on a t-shirt. Evelyn's never missed a morning without calling first, not once in all the years she's been our nanny. She probably just overslept. It happens to everyone, even someone as rigidly punctual as Evelyn.

"No big deal," I tell Chris, ruffling his already messy hair. "She'll probably show up soon. Let's get you fed."

In the kitchen, I crack eggs into a bowl while Chris sits at the counter, swinging his legs and watching me with curious eyes.

"Is Evelyn mad at us?" he asks suddenly.

The question catches me off guard. "Why would you think that?"

"I dunno." He traces invisible patterns on the countertop with his finger. "She seemed sad yesterday. And now she's not here."

I pause, whisk hovering over the bowl. Had Evelyn seemed sad? I try to replay yesterday in my mind, but all I can remember is her usual hovering presence.

"I'm sure she's fine, buddy," I say, turning back to the eggs. "Everyone oversleeps sometimes."

I pour the eggs into the pan, watching the yellow mixture sizzle and bubble. The kitchen fills with the familiar scent of breakfast, but something feels off without Evelyn bustling around, making coffee and fussing over Chris's unruly hair.

"These look good?" I ask, sliding the scrambled eggs onto Chris's plate.

He nods enthusiastically, already shoveling a forkful into his mouth. "Really good!"

Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. I keep glancing at my phone as I flip the eggs, but there's nothing from Evelyn. Not even a read receipt on my "Everything ok?" text.

I lean against the counter, sipping orange juice straight from the carton while watching the clock tick closer to school time. My thumb hovers over Evelyn's contact, but I hesitate. If she's just overslept, my call might wake her up only for her to panic about being late. Plus, I'm more concerned about getting Chris to school on time at this point.

"Slow down, buddy. You'll choke," I warn as Chris practically inhales his breakfast.

Chris scrapes his fork across the plate, scooping up the last bit of eggs. "All done!" he announces with a grin, bits of yellow still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

"Great job," I say, grabbing a napkin and wiping his face despite his protests. "Come on, I'll drive you to school today since Evelyn's MIA."

Chris hops down from his chair and grabs his backpack, excitement clear on his face. "Can we take the long way? With the bumpy road?"

"Not today, buddy. We're already cutting it close." I ruffle his hair and grab my keys, trying to ignore the nagging worry about Evelyn. It's not like her to disappear without a word.

The drive to Chris's elementary school is filled with his chatter about some YouTube video where a guy builds underground swimming pools with sticks. I nod and make appropriate sounds of amazement, but my mind keeps drifting to Evelyn's absence.

"...and then he makes a slide using just mud and water!" Chris continues, oblivious to my distraction.

"That's pretty cool," I say, pulling up to the drop-off zone. "Have a good day, okay? Learn something awesome."

Chris gives me a quick hug before jumping out of the car. "Bye, Seth!" he calls, already running toward his friends gathered near the entrance.

I watch until he disappears inside, then pull away from the curb, heading back home. The empty passenger seat feels sad. I try calling Evelyn, but it goes straight to voicemail.

"Hey, it's me again. Just checking if everything's okay. Chris is at school now, so... call me when you get this."

As I hang up, a chill runs through me. Something feels wrong. Deeply wrong. The morning feels off in a way I can't explain, like the world has tilted slightly on its axis.

I drive back home, my knuckles white against the steering wheel. Instead of pulling into my driveway, I park in front of Evelyn's house next door. The curtains are drawn, and her car sits in the driveway, which only heightens my unease.

I approach her front door, my footsteps heavy on the concrete path. Three sharp knocks echo in the morning air. Nothing. I wait a few seconds and try again, harder this time.

"Evelyn?" I call out, pressing my ear against the door. The house remains silent.

I find the doorbell and press it, listening to the chime echo through the empty house. Still nothing. My heart rate picks up as I dig my phone out and scroll to find her mom's number.

It rings six times before going to voicemail. "Hi, Mrs. Summers, it's Seth Miller. Just checking if Evelyn's with you? She didn't show up this morning. Please call me back when you can."

No surprise there. Her mom works all the time, like mine, and is notoriously hard to reach during the day. I hesitate for just a moment before reaching into my pocket for the spare key Evelyn gave me years ago, "for emergencies." This feels like it qualifies.

The key slides into the lock smoothly, and the door swings open with a soft creak.

"Evelyn?" I call out, stepping into the familiar entryway. "You home?"

The house is eerily quiet. I move through the living room, noting how everything is perfectly in place, almost unnaturally so.

In the kitchen, a mug sits by the coffee maker, clean and ready for morning use. But the coffee maker is cold.

"Evelyn?" I try again, heading toward her bedroom.

Her bedroom door is open, and I pause at the threshold. The bed is perfectly made. But something about it doesn't look right. It doesn't look like it's been slept in at all.

I check the bathroom, her toothbrush is dry. The shower shows no signs of recent use.

"Fuck," I whisper as I back away from the bathroom, a cold knot forming in my stomach. Something's very wrong here.

I hurry out of Evelyn's house, locking the door behind me. My mind races with possibilities, each one worse than the last. Did she have an accident? Is she hurt somewhere? Or did...

No. They wouldn't.

But the thought creeps in anyway, like poison seeping through my veins. The twins basically promised they wouldn't kill Evelyn.

My hands shake as I pull out my phone and call Lilly. She answers on the second ring.

"Good morning, lover," she purrs, her voice warm and affectionate. "Missing me already?"

I cut straight to the point. "Did you do something to Evelyn?"

There's a brief pause. "No, of course not," Lilly says, her tone shifting to confused concern. "Why would you think that?"

She sounds like she's telling the truth. Her voice has that perfect note of innocent bewilderment that makes me feel guilty for even asking.

"Can you put Rose on?" I ask, not quite ready to let this go.

"Sure, hold on." There's some rustling, then Rose's voice comes through.

"Hey, Baby, what's up?" Her voice sounds sleepy, like she just woke up.

"Rose, did you do anything to Evelyn?" I ask again, more firmly this time.

"No," she answers, her tone lazy and unconcerned. "Why are you asking?"

Her answer also sounds believable.

"You're on speaker now," Lilly says. "What's going on, Seth? You sound worried."

I take a deep breath, the knot in my stomach tightening. "Evelyn's missing. She didn't show up this morning to watch Chris, and I just checked her house. Her car's here, but she's not. Her bed hasn't been slept in."

"That's weird," Rose says, sounding more alert now. "Maybe she went out with friends and stayed over?"

"Evelyn doesn't have friends," I snap, then immediately feel bad for saying it. "I mean, she doesn't go out. Ever. And she wouldn't leave without telling me, especially on a school day."

There's a brief silence on the other end of the line. I can almost picture Lilly and Rose exchanging one of their silent twin communications.

"Do you want us to come by and help you look for her?" Lilly asks, her voice softening with what sounds like genuine concern. "If you truly believe she's missing, you should probably contact the police."

I run my hand through my hair, pacing in front of Evelyn's house. "Isn't it too early for that? Don't they make you wait 24 hours or something?"

"No, Seth," Lilly says firmly. "That's a dangerous misconception from television. The first 24 hours are actually the most critical in any missing person case. The sooner you report it, the better chance of finding her."

My stomach drops as the reality of the situation hits me. "Fuck," I mutter, already heading toward my car. "You're right. I'll go to the police station right now."

"We'll meet you there," Rose chimes in immediately.

I pause with my hand on the car door. "No, you two have classes today. And didn't you already skip last week for our sleepover?"

"Classes can wait," Lilly's voice comes through the phone, firm yet gentle. "If I had to go to the police to file a report, I'd want you with me. For support."

"Yeah, Seth," Rose adds quickly. "It's the least we can do. We're gentlewomen, after all."

I hesitate, torn between wanting to handle this myself and the genuine comfort their presence would provide. The thought of walking into a police station alone, trying to explain Evelyn's disappearance without sounding paranoid or guilty, makes my stomach churn.

"Alright," I finally say, slumping against my car door. "I'd appreciate that."