As Mishka and Bruce walked down the grand staircase of the Classen mansion, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere they'd left behind, a new worry began to gnaw at Mishka's mind. She stopped abruptly, causing Bruce to look at her with concern.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice soft in the quiet of the night.
Mishka turned back to look at the imposing facade of her childhood home. "My father," she said, her brow furrowed. "He wasn't at the dinner. Why wasn't he there?"
Bruce's eyes widened slightly as he realized the implications. "You're right. With all that was happening, I didn't even notice his absence."
Mishka's mind raced, recalling Gillian's message about her father acting strangely. A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the night air. "Something's not right, Bruce. My father would never miss a family dinner, especially one as important as this.