Page 55 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

“Dr. Clarke,” she says. “I’m Meredith from HR.”

“I’m looking for Athena,” I reply. “She hasn’t reported to pediatrics today.”

Meredith sits and opens the folder. “Athena submitted a resignation this morning.”

The words hit hard enough that my body goes still. “She did what.”

Meredith glances up. “She resigned. Effective immediately.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intend. “She can’t resign without notice.”

Meredith’s expression doesn’t change. “There was an emergency. She requested separation without notice and cited immediate safety concerns. Under policy, we can accept that without the usual processing period.”

Safety concerns.

My skin goes cold. “What safety concerns?”

Meredith’s gaze stays neutral. “I can’t disclose the details. She contacted us early this morning, she spoke with Employee Relations, and we processed the resignation. Security was notified as a precaution.”

I lean forward slightly, hands flat on the table now. “Was there a threat?”

Meredith pauses. “There was enough information provided that we took it seriously.”

My mind jumps to Cindy, then to Nate, then to the photos that proved someone was watching.

“Did she name someone?” I ask.

Meredith’s eyes hold mine. “No.”

I stand slowly. “Where did she go?”

Meredith closes the folder. “I don’t have that information.”

I stare at her for a beat. “You do.”

Her expression stays calm. “I’m sorry. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be allowed to give it to you.”

I step back from the table. “Thank you,” I say, and my voice sounds like something I don’t recognize.

I walk out of HR without looking at the receptionist, then move fast down the corridor, badge bouncing lightly against my chest. My phone is in my hand before I reach the elevator. All I can do is repeat everything I’ve already done—call her, call her again, then text her.

Talk to me. I’m coming to you.

No response.

I take the elevator to the trauma floor and walk into my office, shutting the door. My hands move to the drawer where I keep personal paperwork and I pull out the contact list I’ve built over years. Security. Admin. A friend in IT. A nurse manager who knows everything.

I stop myself before I start making calls. If Athena resigned under safety policy, she may have told them not to share information. I try her number again, but this time, it doesn’t even ring. Fuck. She’s blocked me. My hand tightens around the phone.

Standing abruptly, I grab my coat. It’s my lunch anyway, and I don’t care about food as much as I care about answers. The drive to her apartment takes twelve minutes.

I park too fast then get out and cross the sidewalk toward the building. The front door is locked. I buzz her unit. No response.

I check the directory and press the button a third time. Silence. I move to the side of the building where the mailboxes are visible through the lobby window. Her name still sits on the slot. That makes my skin crawl.

All attempts on the door are futile, so I step back and look up at the second-floor windows. The curtains are drawn. No movement. No light.

A door opens behind me. I turn.