Evelyn woke up the next morning and instinctively reached out, but Carlos wasn't beside her. A strange emptiness settled in her chest as she sat up, gathering her strength before stepping out of the room.
She glanced downstairs—no sign of him at the dining table. Maybe he's in his study, she thought, turning to go there. But before she could take another step, she spotted Ezra, the old butler.
"Grandpa!" she called out, rushing toward him. "Is the boss—I mean, Carlos—in his study? Why isn't he eating?"
Ezra bowed slightly before answering, "Young Miss, the Master has left on a business trip."
Evelyn froze. "What?"
"He departed at dawn," Ezra clarified.
Her breath hitched. "But… why? Why would he leave just like that?" Her voice trembled. She had just begun trying to get closer to him—how could he disappear now?
"When will he be back?" she pressed.
Ezra hesitated before replying, "I'm afraid he didn't specify a return date."
Evelyn clenched her fists. "Then, when does he usually return from a trip like this?"
"Anywhere between two to three months… perhaps two years," Ezra said cautiously.
The words hit her like a slap.
"What?!" Her outburst nearly startled the old butler.
She took a shaky breath, desperation clawing at her. "Grandpa, give me Carlos' number."
Ezra's face turned apologetic. "I'm sorry, Young Miss, but I don't have his number."
Evelyn's heart pounded. "Please! My life depends on this. I— I'll die before he returns!" Tears burned her eyes.
Ezra looked at her, concern flickering in his aged gaze. But his voice remained firm. "I truly mean it, Young Miss. I don't have his number."