Morning came quietly.
Sunlight slowly crept through the windows of the house, warming the silent rooms.
In the kitchen, Evelyn moved around preparing breakfast like she always did. The sound of plates and spoons filled the air as the younger boys ran in, still half-asleep and arguing about who would sit where.
"Sit down and eat," Evelyn said without looking up.
They obeyed quickly.
"Where's Stephanie?" the younger one suddenly asked, glancing toward the hallway.
Evelyn shrugged slightly.
"She's probably still in her room."
The boys continued eating.
A few minutes later, the older brother stood up.
"I'll go call her," he said.
He ran down the hallway and pushed Stephanie's door open.
"Steph—"
His voice stopped.
The room was quiet.
The bed was empty.
He frowned and stepped inside.
Her blanket was folded strangely, like someone had left in a hurry. The room felt… different.
"Maybe she's in the bathroom," he muttered.
He checked.
Nothing.
A small feeling of confusion crept into his chest as he walked back to the kitchen.
"Mum," he said, "Stephanie's not in her room."
Evelyn paused for a second.
"She probably went outside," she replied calmly.
But something about the boy's expression made her put down the knife in her hand.
"Are you sure you checked properly?" she asked.
"Yes."
Evelyn wiped her hands and walked down the hallway herself.
She opened Stephanie's door slowly.
The room looked almost the same as always.
But not quite.
Her eyes scanned the space carefully.
The closet door was slightly open.
Inside, a few clothes were missing.
The desk still held her school books, but her school bag was gone.
Evelyn's chest tightened slightly.
She walked toward the bed and touched the blanket.
Cold.
Stephanie hadn't slept there.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach.
Behind her, the stepfather leaned against the doorframe.
"What's going on?" he asked casually.
"She's not here," Evelyn said quietly.
He shrugged.
"So?"
Evelyn turned to look at him.
"What do you mean, 'so'?"
"Teenagers run away all the time," he replied with a careless laugh. "She'll come back when she gets hungry."
Evelyn didn't answer.
Something about his tone irritated her.
But she pushed the feeling aside.
"If she wants to leave, let her go," he continued. "She's always had attitude anyway."
Evelyn's eyes drifted back around the room.
Her gaze landed on something pinned to the wall.
An old drawing.
Stephanie had made it when she was very young — a simple picture of a small family holding hands.
Evelyn slowly walked closer to it.
She remembered that day.
Stephanie had proudly shown it to her, smiling brightly.
"Mum, look! I drew us!"
Evelyn had barely looked at it back then.
Now the memory returned with uncomfortable clarity.
Her eyes moved around the room again.
The small bed.
The books.
The quiet.
Then a sudden thought crossed her mind.
Yesterday.
Stephanie's birthday.
Seventeen.
Evelyn felt something twist in her chest.
She hadn't said a single word to her.
Not even happy birthday.
For the first time that morning, the silence in the room felt heavy.
Where did she go?
The question sat quietly in Evelyn's mind.
But the house had already returned to its normal noise.
The boys were arguing again in the kitchen.
Her husband was laughing at something on his phone.
Life inside the house continued.
As if Stephanie had never been there at all.