He reached for his phone, dialing her number. The ringtone buzzed faintly from inside the room. Her mobile sat on the side table, screen dark. She’d left it behind! That wasn’t Lina—not the woman he’d kissed an hour ago. This was someone…unbalanced. Someone running without a plan.
Postpartum depression? The thought came unbidden, absurd in its suddenness. There had been no warning, no shadows in her smile. Yet, how else to explain this? He pictured her drifting down corridors, clutching their daughter. Coils of panic tightened around him—was the baby cold? Hungry? Was she safe?