The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 350

As Theodore and Mrs. Stapleton got out of their car, Penelope scrambled out of hers.

“Theodore, something might have happened to Norton!” she cried, rushing toward him.

He frowned. “Did he get into trouble again?”

“He’s missing!”

“Missing?”

“He hasn’t been to class or his apartment in a week. We can’t reach him on his phone! And look at this.”

She handed him the note she had found in Norton’s bedroom. Every word dripped with sorrow and hopelessness.

Theodore’s expression immediately turned grim. He pulled out his phone and tracked Norton’s location, discovering he was on an undeveloped hill outside the city.

What was he doing on a remote hill?

Combined with the words he’d left behind—about flowers growing from his rotted flesh—a terrible possibility began to form. Even Theodore’s usually composed face showed a flicker of dread.

“We have to go there now.”

He started toward Penelope’s car, but Mrs. Stapleton called out, stopping him.

“Theo, you’re not going anywhere. We promised Lorraine we would take her to see the autumn leaves today. A promise is a promise. We can’t disappoint her!”

When Mrs. Stapleton spoke of Lorraine, her eyes filled with love, but Lorraine was just an AI persona on the laptop in her arms. Norton was a living, breathing person—her own son—who might be in danger, yet she couldn’t spare a single word of concern.

Trying not to agitate her, Theodore suggested they go another day.

“No!” Mrs. Stapleton’s voice grew sharp. “Lorraine wants to go today, so we must go today. You…”

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