Ari had spent Tuesday night – privately – with Ben, then gone home for the morning, washed and quickly gotten ready for work and gone for his shift at the hospital as usual. He’d taken an early shift on Wednesday, so that he might be home in good time to celebrate – Wednesday 2nd was Dionisia’s birthday, and he had every intention of spending it at home with her.
She knew that. They had planned that much; they would have a cake after supper together; it would be quiet, but nice. They hadn’t crossed paths that morning, which was usual enough, in his rush – but when he got home, she was nowhere to be found. Elliott was there, being looked after by his nanny; the card and presents Ari had left on the dining table to give to Dionisia later were still there, unopened; the staff hadn’t seen her in hours. He checked the greenhouse and the garden; checked her bedroom, neat and empty; checked every room again for a missed note from her. Nothing.
Something didn’t feel right. He ran through the possibilities. He could take a walk down the High Street, lest she was still out doing errands hours later than she should be. Maybe she had gotten a better offer of birthday plans, had met up with some friends – Ari wouldn’t blame her there. Maybe he oughtn’t be so worried: her independence was a good thing, and, married or not, he had no right to pry too far into her life – she let him have his secrets, after all.
But it had gotten later and later and later, and eventually Ari had owled some of the family, and found that even Zelda hadn’t seen or heard from her. And Zelda was one of her closest friends, Zelda would have known if anyone did – and now the unease in the pit of his stomach was deepening by the hour.
He waited until dawn had broken again, Dionisia’s bedroom door still standing open. He ought to be at the hospital in a couple of hours, but he couldn’t go to work still not knowing where his wife was. He ought to report it. A girl had gone missing from Hogsmeade just the other day. The constables or the Ministry, then –
He found himself at Ben’s house instead, hoping Ben would talk some sense into him if he was overreacting here, merely being too frantic for his own good. He had a spare key and so let himself in, aware that bursting in like this was not being as discreet as usual but hardly caring, given the circumstances. “She’s gone,” Ari blurted out without preamble, sure that he looked a dishevelled mess, because he had been thinking about little else for the last twelve hours. “Dionisia. I can’t find her. She’s gone.”
She knew that. They had planned that much; they would have a cake after supper together; it would be quiet, but nice. They hadn’t crossed paths that morning, which was usual enough, in his rush – but when he got home, she was nowhere to be found. Elliott was there, being looked after by his nanny; the card and presents Ari had left on the dining table to give to Dionisia later were still there, unopened; the staff hadn’t seen her in hours. He checked the greenhouse and the garden; checked her bedroom, neat and empty; checked every room again for a missed note from her. Nothing.
Something didn’t feel right. He ran through the possibilities. He could take a walk down the High Street, lest she was still out doing errands hours later than she should be. Maybe she had gotten a better offer of birthday plans, had met up with some friends – Ari wouldn’t blame her there. Maybe he oughtn’t be so worried: her independence was a good thing, and, married or not, he had no right to pry too far into her life – she let him have his secrets, after all.
But it had gotten later and later and later, and eventually Ari had owled some of the family, and found that even Zelda hadn’t seen or heard from her. And Zelda was one of her closest friends, Zelda would have known if anyone did – and now the unease in the pit of his stomach was deepening by the hour.
He waited until dawn had broken again, Dionisia’s bedroom door still standing open. He ought to be at the hospital in a couple of hours, but he couldn’t go to work still not knowing where his wife was. He ought to report it. A girl had gone missing from Hogsmeade just the other day. The constables or the Ministry, then –
He found himself at Ben’s house instead, hoping Ben would talk some sense into him if he was overreacting here, merely being too frantic for his own good. He had a spare key and so let himself in, aware that bursting in like this was not being as discreet as usual but hardly caring, given the circumstances. “She’s gone,” Ari blurted out without preamble, sure that he looked a dishevelled mess, because he had been thinking about little else for the last twelve hours. “Dionisia. I can’t find her. She’s gone.”
![[Image: uDpyi8.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/uDpyi8.png)
