That evening, Claire disappeared.
She left while I was upstairs changing Sophie’s diaper.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Her car was gone.
Her phone went straight to voicemail.
At first, I was angry.
Then worried.
Then frightened.
Because shortly after eight o’clock, I received a text message from an unknown number.
Stop asking questions about the bear.
I stared at the screen.
A second message arrived.
Your mother should have kept her promise.
My breathing stopped.
I called the number.
Disconnected.
I immediately contacted the investigator and forwarded screenshots of both messages.
He said someone would follow up.
I asked whether we were in danger.
He didn’t dismiss my concern.
He told me to keep the doors locked and call emergency services if anyone threatened us or tried to enter the house.
I checked every window.
Then I called my neighbor, a retired firefighter named Martin, and asked if he could come over.
