King

Alyssa isn't in bed when I wake up. 

That alone has my heart hammering like a war drum. 

For one brutal second, I think maybe she ran. Left us. Left me. 

I don't even know why the thought crosses my mind, but now that it has, I can't fucking shake it. 

I grab my phone and check the app—no door alerts, no movement outside, no breaches.

Still, the absence burns.

I pull up the camera feed, and my chest loosens the second I see her. She's in ...