Michael
The night is sultry; almost unbearably hot and stifling. Every window is open, and the doors are flung wide too, to let any breeze there is through the house. Nonetheless, I toss and turn uneasily, slick with sweat, drifting in and out of sleep.
In the dark, I reach out for Charlotte before realising that I’m alone in the bed. Beside me, her sheets are thrown back and she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Charlotte?”
No reply.
“Charlotte?” I call more loudly, but still there is no answer.
Worrying now, I rise, throwing on my robe to go in search of my missing beauty. My fingers, working automatically open a side drawer, seeking out the small box which I’ve been carrying with me, waiting for the right moment, and push it into a pocket.
I check bathrooms and the kitchen, but there’s no sign of her inside the house, so I go looking outside. And there I find her, in the pool, floating on her back, staring up at the sky.
“Are you alright?”