I wake up.

The house is unusually quiet.

Something's wrong.

I recall my memory of last night.

Dad was throwing clothes in his backpack.

Me, standing in the doorway of his room. "Dad?"

He turns to me, his expression crumbled. "Hey, pumpkin."

"Daddy? Where are you going?"

His smile seems forced. "I've got a business trip. I'll be back in a couple days."

He fumbles with his wallet and gives me 500 bucks. "Here's some money for pizza for the next few days."

I shove the money in my pocket. "Daddy? Where's mom and Alvar?"

He turns away, his voice grim. "Call Fitz if you need anything. I'm... going backpacking deep in the Ontiveros Jungle."

"I thought you said you were going on a business trip." I accuse him.

His voice is tired. "I'm doing both. Now go to bed, pumpkin."

"Dad?" I yell. "Daddy, where are you?"

Silence.

Oh no.

On the kitchen table is a note scribbled out on an old receipt.

Some more money on the counter.

Be back soon.

I love you, Biana.

Dad

It's perfectly normal, except for one thing.

He always calls me Pumpkin.