The drive to the sheriff’s office felt endless.
Lily had fallen asleep in the back seat, clutching the stuffed rabbit I kept in the car for emergencies.
I couldn’t stop looking at her through the rearview mirror.
Every few seconds I had to remind myself she was safe.
Deputy Harris met me outside.
His expression told me the situation was worse than he’d been willing to say over the phone.
“The backpack belonged to a seven-year-old named Ava Collins,” he said quietly.
“She disappeared three days ago after leaving soccer practice.”
My heart sank.
“Is she…?”
He shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
He led me into an interview room.
On the table sat Victor Hale’s abandoned pocket watch inside an evidence bag.
Beside it was another clear bag containing several strands of dark hair recovered from the pickup truck.
“We’ll compare everything.”
Then he looked directly at me.
“But I need you to answer one question.”
“Has Victor ever tried to contact your family before today?”
I hesitated.
“No.”
Then another memory surfaced.
Not mine.
Mom’s.
Every Christmas for years, she’d quietly disappear for an hour.
Whenever I asked where she’d gone, she always smiled and said,
“Just visiting an old friend.”
I suddenly wasn’t sure those trips had been innocent.
An hour later, Detective Laura Bennett entered carrying a thick file.
“We’ve been investigating Victor Hale for months.”
She spread several photographs across the table.
Every picture showed Victor.
Different towns.
Different vehicles.
Different women.
Different children.
“He never stayed anywhere very long.”
Then she placed down one final photograph.
I felt the room spin.
It showed my mother standing beside Victor outside a roadside diner.
The date stamped in the corner was only six weeks old.
“No…”
I whispered.
“That’s impossible.”
“My mother told everyone she hadn’t seen him in nearly twenty years.”
Detective Bennett slid another document toward me.
“Phone records tell a different story.”
Dozens of calls.
Weekly.
Sometimes daily.
For nearly five years.
My stomach turned.
Just then, an officer hurried into the room.
“Detective…”
“We found the truck.”
Everyone stood.
“Where?”
“Abandoned at Miller’s Creek.”
“And Victor?”
The officer shook his head.
“Gone.”
“But…”
He swallowed.
“We found fingerprints inside.”
He looked directly at me.
“One set belongs to Victor.”
“The other…”
He glanced at the report in his hand.
“…belongs to your mother.”
The room went silent.
I felt every ounce of strength leave my body.
My mother hadn’t simply known Victor.
She had been inside his truck.
Recently.
Before I could process another word, my phone buzzed.
Dad.
I answered immediately.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Emma…”
“Don’t go home.”
My heart raced.
“What happened?”
“I found something.”
“What?”
There was a long pause.
Then he spoke the sentence that changed everything.
“I just opened your mother’s bedroom closet.”
“And there’s another little girl’s backpack inside.”
To be continued…
