It had started on an ordinary sunny afternoon when Katie, glowing with excitement, announced that she was getting married. Eleanor had stared at her in disbelief. “Katie, honey, you just finished high school. What about college? What about building a life first? Why rush into something this big?”
Katie pressed her lips together, stubborn as ever, and Eleanor kept going. “Who is he, exactly? What does he do for work?” Katie answered with a defensive edge in her voice. “You don’t know him. He’s from out of state—near Chicago. He was here for work for a while. We’ve been seeing each other for three months, and I know how I feel.”
Then she added, “He had to go back home, but he wants me to come there, and I’m going. I love him.” That was when the room changed. “Katie, stop,” Mike cut in, his voice sharp now. “You’re talking about moving away to be with a man we’ve never even met. If he’s serious, why hasn’t he come here and introduced himself like an adult?”
Mike paced the living room, too upset to sit. “If he cared about you, he wouldn’t be hiding. A decent man shows up, looks your parents in the eye, and says what his intentions are.” Katie was already crying, but she stood her ground. “Dad, don’t say that. He wants me there, and I’m going no matter what you say.”
Mike, running on instinct and fear, said what fathers sometimes say when they feel they’re losing control of the situation. “For all you know, he could already have a wife somewhere.” Katie covered her face and shouted, “You don’t understand me. You don’t even want to.” Then she ran down the hall, slammed her bedroom door, and locked it.
Those were the last words they ever heard from her. The next morning, after everyone had cooled down, Eleanor went to Katie’s room planning to apologize and talk things through. The door was unlocked. Inside, drawers had been pulled open, clothes were missing, and the closet stood half-empty. Katie was gone.
