THIRTY

“Jane! JANE!” Daniel called from the kitchen. It was a quarter past eight in the morning and she was nowhere in sight. Usually, the island table would be filled with a chockfull of her breakfast creations by now. His stomach rumbled like thunder and he frowned, not happy with the absence of the happy meal.

With hard lines set across his face, he tightened the knot of his silken dark green robe and marched to the dimmed corridor which housed Jane and Timmy’s room at the very end. A few raps on the door later and Daniel’s annoyance turned into budding anxiety. Strange, why wasn’t she answering? He could hear Timmy’s gurgles coming from within the room.

He rapped his knuckles against the bedroom door again, and this time, his forehead creased with worried lines. A sense of foreboding crept upon him and he called out, “Jane? You there?”

There was no answer. Daniel pressed his ear against the door. There was breathing, it was ragged and faint and Daniel’s own brea