Mitchell woke up groggily the next afternoon.
The plates of spaghetti on the table had long since clumped together into an unrecognizable mess, and the floor was littered with overturned bottles of alcohol. The stifling summer heat amplified the pungent stench of stale liquor and souring food, creating an unbearable atmosphere.
Yet, Mitchell seemed oblivious. He blended Into the chaos of his surroundings, his hollow gaze reflecting the disarray within him.
Day after day passed like this, a lifeless routine. There was still no news of Heather. Bethany, who had once loudly insisted on involving the police, had fallen strangely silent. Mitchell guessed Vanessa had made some kind of deal with her, though he couldn’t bring himself to
care.
What he couldn’t ignore, however, was the fallout. In Kennethville, Mitchell and the Bennetts‘ reputation had plummeted.
Vanessa, fed up with his spiraling behavior, tried repeatedly to encourage him to pull himself together. When her efforts failed, she resorted to bringing in a therapist. But Mitchell resisted every attempt at treatment, leaving any progress negligible at best.
Once a man of discipline, Mitchell now found himself chained to the vices he’d always avoided. Over the course of the month since Heather’s disappearance, cigarettes and alcohol became his crutches, numbing him to the crushing weight of reality.
But deep down, Mitchell knew it was all futile. These fleeting escapes did nothing to dull the sharp ache of her absence. And yet, he couldn’t think of another way to endure it.
“Heather… you hate it when I drink or smoke, don’t you? So why won’t you come stop me? I miss you so much… Please, come back to me.”
Clutching a bottle, Mitchell drank heavily. The haze of alcohol mixed with exhaustion, pushing him toward the edge of his limits. He started seeing things.
It had to be a hallucination. What other explanation was there for Heather suddenly appearing before him?
She came closer, her familiar features clearer with each step, until she stopped just three feet
away.
“Mitchell,” she scolded softly, her tone tinged with playful reproach. “Why did you drink so much? If
you keep this up,
I’ll stop talking to you.”
Mitchell’s lifeless expression transformed instantly. His deadened eyes, once devoid of light, now brimmed with emotion.
“Heather,” he whispered, reaching out and pulling her into a fierce embrace. His arms
