Chapter 5 - The Empty Kitchen
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At three o'clock that afternoon, Derek Foster unlocked the front door of the Biscayne Bay apartment and pushed it open. He stepped aside to let his younger sister, Suzanne, walk in first.
Suzanne was holding a completely empty designer shopping bag, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the glossy cardboard. She was dressed in a silk top and white linen pants, looking as though she was headed to a luxury resort rather than her sister-in-law's home.
"I still can't believe she embarrassed me like that at the boutique," Suzanne complained, tossing her expensive sunglasses onto the entryway table. "My card declined twice, Derek. The cashier looked at me like I was homeless. Skylar is so incredibly selfish with her money."
"It's handled, Suzie," Derek said confidently, loosening his tie as he walked toward the living room. "I put her in her place this morning. She’ll give you the card, and you can go back and buy whichever bag you want."
"I want the Prada," Suzanne demanded, walking toward the kitchen. "And I think she should apologize to me."
Derek followed her into the kitchen, expecting to see Skylar cowering at the table, ready to hand over her wallet and beg for forgiveness. Instead, he was met with absolute silence.
The kitchen was completely empty.
Suzanne stopped near the breakfast island and looked down at the floor.
"Derek," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Why is there broken glass and dried coffee all over the floor? This is disgusting."
Derek stared at the shattered ceramic pieces of the coffee cup he had thrown hours earlier. The dark liquid had dried into a sticky, ugly puddle on the pristine hardwood. He felt a sudden, sharp spike of irritation. He had explicitly told her to clean it up before he returned.
"Skylar!" Derek yelled, his voice echoing off the high ceilings of the apartment.
There was no answer.
He marched down the hallway and threw open the door to the master bedroom. The bed was unmade, just as they had left it, but the room was empty. He checked the guest room, the bathrooms, and the balcony. She was nowhere to be found.
"Where is she?" Suzanne whined from the kitchen. "The boutique closes at six, Derek. I need that card."
Derek pulled out his phone and dialed Skylar's number. It rang three times before going straight to a generic voicemail. He ended the call and dialed again, the irritation blooming into a hot, angry flush across his neck.
"She's throwing a tantrum," Derek muttered, marching back into the kitchen. He looked at the counter where she usually kept her work things. "She took her laptop."
"Well, find her," Suzanne demanded, crossing her arms. "You promised me this would be sorted."
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Derek stared at the broken cup on the floor, a strange, uneasy feeling finally beginning to take root in his stomach. Skylar never disobeyed him like this. She never left messes for him to find.
"She'll be back," Derek said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. "She has nowhere else to go."
