When somebody dies, there's usually proof.
A funeral.
A body.
A phone call.
Something.
Anything.
A line in the sand separating before from after.
But when somebody disappears?
That's different.
Because hope stays alive.
And hope can be cruel.
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The first thing we noticed was that The Walker stopped showing up.
Not immediately.
It took a few days.
Then a week.
Then another.
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No figure at the end of the street.
No silhouette outside windows.
No impossible shape standing beneath streetlights.
Nothing.
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Which should've been good news.
It wasn't.
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Because The Walker had stalked us for months.
Then Sia vanished.
And suddenly it stopped.
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That wasn't a coincidence.
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"Tell me that's not connected."
Hashim sat forward in his chair.
Nobody answered.
Because nobody wanted to say it out loud.
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The room felt emptier without Sia.
Not just because she wasn't there.
Because she'd always been the one keeping everybody focused.
Keeping arguments from becoming fights.
Keeping panic from becoming stupidity.
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Now she was gone.
And none of us knew why.
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Or at least—
that was what we told ourselves.
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Three days later, Samiya called Neems.
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"We're going to her house."
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"What?"
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"Sia's house."
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"Her mom's home."
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"Not right now."
Samiya sounded certain.
"She's working."
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Neems immediately understood.
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"You wanna break in?"
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"It's not breaking in."
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"It is literally breaking in."
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"No."
Samiya paused.
"They leave a spare key under the mattress on the porch."
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"…that's somehow worse."
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An hour later they were standing outside Sia's house.
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Neither of them felt good about it.
⸻
But neither of them left either.
⸻
The key was exactly where Samiya said it'd be.
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Which honestly annoyed Neems more than anything.
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"I can't believe this worked."
⸻
"I told you."
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The door opened.
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And for the first time since Sia disappeared—
they stepped inside.
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The house felt normal.
Too normal.
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Family photos.
Furniture.
Television.
The smell of somebody actually living there.
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Nothing looked wrong.
⸻
Until they reached the basement.
⸻
And saw the board.
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"Oh."
Neems froze.
⸻
"Oh my God."
⸻
The evidence board covered nearly an entire wall.
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Pictures.
Strings.
Notes.
Maps.
Dates.
Newspaper clippings.
Photographs.
Symbols.
Questions.
Theories.
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More information than she'd ever shown any of us.
⸻
Samiya stepped closer.
Slowly.
⸻
"She never told us about this."
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Because Sia hadn't just been researching.
She'd been obsessing.
⸻
There were dozens of notes.
Some crossed out.
Others circled repeatedly.
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One section caught Neems' attention immediately.
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CAVE RELOCATION.
⸻
Underneath it were dates.
Times.
Patterns.
Predictions.
⸻
Neems stared.
⸻
"…she found it."
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"What?"
Samiya looked over.
⸻
"The pattern."
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Samiya's face changed.
⸻
Because she saw it too.
⸻
A sequence.
A schedule.
Not perfect.
But close.
⸻
Close enough.
⸻
Sia had figured out something about the cave.
Something none of us had.
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And she'd never told anybody.
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"Why?"
Neems whispered.
⸻
Samiya didn't answer.
Because she couldn't.
⸻
Hours later we were all in that basement.
⸻
Hashim.
Me.
Neems.
Samiya.
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And Sia's board.
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Hashim looked furious.
⸻
Not angry.
Hurt.
⸻
"If she found a pattern…"
He pointed toward the notes.
"…why wouldn't she tell us?"
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Nobody answered.
⸻
"Seriously."
He looked around.
"Why?"
⸻
The room stayed silent.
⸻
Because it didn't make sense.
⸻
Sia trusted us.
Didn't she?
⸻
Then why hide this?
⸻
Why keep something this important to herself?
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Neems crossed her arms.
⸻
"Maybe she wasn't sure."
⸻
"No."
Hashim shook his head immediately.
"Look at this."
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He pointed toward the dates.
The calculations.
The predictions.
⸻
"She knew."
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And the worst part?
He was right.
⸻
Sia absolutely knew.
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Which meant she had hidden it intentionally.
⸻
I stared at the board.
⸻
At the notes.
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At the photographs.
⸻
At the cave.
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Something felt familiar.
⸻
Not the cave.
Not the board.
⸻
The behavior.
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And suddenly—
a memory surfaced.
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The old woman.
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The missing brother.
⸻
⸻
His room.
⸻
Sticky notes.
Photographs.
Maps.
Obsession.
⸻
The same thing sitting right in front of me.
⸻
My stomach dropped.
⸻
I remembered what she told us.
⸻
Months of isolation.
⸻
Locking himself away.
⸻
Avoiding people.
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Researching constantly.
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Then one night—
he left.
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Near midnight.
⸻
And never came back.
⸻
I stared at the board.
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The room around me started fading away.
⸻
The pieces were fitting together.
⸻
Too well.
⸻
Hashim was still talking.
Still asking questions.
⸻
But I barely heard him.
⸻
Because now I remembered something else.
⸻
Sia.
⸻
Missing group hangouts.
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Short replies.
⸻
Avoiding calls.
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Weeks of disappearing before she actually disappeared.
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Just like him.
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Exactly like him.
⸻
Neems noticed my expression first.
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"Jamal?"
⸻
I didn't answer.
⸻
The realization hit all at once.
⸻
Not gradually.
Not gently.
⸻
Like a truck.
⸻
The boy from 1987.
Sia.
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Both obsessed.
Both isolated.
Both researching.
Both keeping secrets.
Both disappearing near midnight.
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And suddenly I knew why she never told us.
⸻
Neems spoke again.
⸻
"Jamal."
⸻
"What?"
Hashim asked.
⸻
"Why wouldn't she tell us?"
⸻
The room fell silent.
⸻
Everyone looked at me.
⸻
Waiting.
⸻
And for the first time in months—
I wished I was wrong.
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Because if I was right—
then Sia hadn't disappeared accidentally.
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She'd planned it.
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The memory of the old woman's story echoed inside my head.
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The obsession.
The secrecy.
The midnight departure.
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Everything lined up.
⸻
Everything.
⸻
Slowly—
I looked up from the board.
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"Because…"
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My voice barely came out.
⸻
"She was planning on doing something stupid."
⸻
Nobody spoke.
⸻
Nobody moved.
⸻
And for the first time—
all of us understood the same terrifying possibility.
⸻
Sia hadn't been taken.
⸻
She went willingly.
⸻
And somewhere deep inside me—
I already knew where she went.
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The cave.
⸻
The room became completely silent.
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And this time—
silence didn't feel safe.
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It felt like a countdown.
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NEXT WEEK:
CHAPTER 21: "The Cave Moves"