Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 238

“Oh… uh…” The security guard wasn’t sure why Theodore had suddenly started chatting with him. Was it true what they said—drunks always had too much to say?

Tonight, Theodore certainly seemed to.

While waiting for his ride, he turned to the guard. “My grandma made so many dishes tonight. She cooked just for me.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. She sounds like a lovely lady,” the guard replied, making polite conversation as he glanced at his watch.

“She is. She’s the best. She loves me more than anyone… I have to get home. Can’t keep her waiting too long.”

“That’s true. Older folks appreciate the company.”

“When I have some time off, I want to take her on a trip. Maybe to see the ocean…”

“Sir, you’re a good grandson.”

“Good grandson?” Theodore’s eyes suddenly glistened with tears. “No, I’m not. I’m not good at all. I’m not good…”

The guard froze—how was he supposed to respond to that?

Luckily, the car pulled up at that moment.

“Sir, your ride’s here.” The guard quickly ushered Theodore into the back seat, breathing a huge sigh of relief as the car door shut.

“Goodbye. Thank you,” Theodore called from inside the car.

“No… no problem.”

The car drove off toward Stonehaven.

The night deepened, and eventually the cab stopped outside his grandmother’s house.

But the gate was locked. Theodore couldn’t get in.

He knocked. “Grandma? Grandma, it’s me, Theo. Will you open the door? Are you home?”

No answer.

He knocked again, more insistently. “Grandma, it’s Theo’s birthday today. Didn’t you make me a birthday dinner?”

“Grandma, where did you go?”

“Grandma, have you left me too?”

He couldn’t stand anymore. He slid down to sit against the door, slumping slowly to the ground with his eyes closed.

In the darkness, he seemed to see a sky full of stars. His grandmother, the one who had held his little hand and raised him, stood among them, smiling gently. “Theo, you must live well. Take good care of yourself and be happy. I haven’t really left you, I’ve just moved somewhere else. I’m a star now, always watching over you. Don’t cry, silly Theo…”

“Grandma…” he whispered, voice barely audible, as tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. “Everyone’s gone… no one wants Theo anymore. I know…”

The village head happened to be passing Grandma’s house at six in the morning.

He noticed someone slumped at the gate. It had rained all night—the ground was soaked, and whoever it was had been sitting in puddles, thoroughly drenched.

The village head smiled kindly. “Yes, Mr. Whitman? Is there something I can help with?”

“Do you… do you know where Grandma went?”

He hated having to ask—how pathetic, asking someone else where his own grandmother was. But if he didn’t, who else would tell him?

Mr. Evans shook his head, sympathy in his eyes. “I’m afraid not. It’s been days. No one seems to know. You…”

He caught himself before finishing the thought—of course Theodore didn’t know, or he wouldn’t be asking.

“Thank you,” Theodore said, forcing a smile.

The question Mr. Evans didn’t ask—how could Theodore not know? It was ridiculous.

Emma had moved abroad. Grandma had vanished.

His own family had disappeared, and he was the last to know. How absurd was that?

He checked his phone, called for a cab. Only then did he notice his last ride had gone from Cecilia’s apartment to his grandmother’s house. Judging by the time stamp, he’d really spent the whole night asleep at her door.

He rubbed his temples. He couldn’t remember a thing from last night.

The restaurant they’d eaten at was near Cecilia’s place, so it made sense he’d started the ride from there. Maybe the others had dropped her off on the way.

Right now, he was a mess—clothes soaked and sticky, pants caked with mud, every inch of him clammy and uncomfortable. He needed to get home, take a hot shower, and change before he could face anything else.