Arthur called out for Zoe, his voice still heavy with sleep, searching for her with his eyes.

Silence.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and called Cleide.

“Cleide, is Zoe in the kitchen?” he asked, anxiety already tightening his chest.

“No, sir. She left early. She was gone before I even started preparing breakfast. She said she needed to go home,” Cleide replied cautiously.

Arthur hung up without another word. He called Zoe. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.

On the fourth attempt, a