🏆 LONGLIST - OPEN NOVELLA CONTEST 2022 🏆
Vincent Pareja longs for the day when his family won't worry about money and his siblings can go to school without skipping a meal. With his choices limited and with the wage, however small, promises to hel...
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The landline on my office desk was ringing when I got back to the room after a quick lunch outside the camp. Garcia gave me a brief nod before striding towards his desk to attend to his work. I let the line ring for the fourth time before picking it up. From the other side, a garbled "Hello?" filtered out.
I raised an eyebrow, recognizing that voice. "Jessa?" I said aloud, earning another knowing look from Garcia. Damn him. It's not what he thought. "What's up?"
Something creaked from her side of the line and I paused. She didn't sound like she's excited to call me. I vaguely remember telling her to never call the office landline unless absolutely urgent. A stone formed and weighed inside my gut. Something's wrong. I could feel it.
"Jess?" I pressed once more. More crackles rang through the speaker. She's...crying? "Jessa, are you okay?"
The crackles finally resembled sobs after my question. Jessa sniffed, grating my hearing with the sound that came after. I didn't have the heart to draw the handset away from my ear. "They're gone," Jessa murmured, the phone picking up only the barest decibels to deliver to me. "Vince, they're gone."
"Who's gone?" I said, my instincts creeping to the surface, filling my muscles with adrenaline until I was already to bolt out of the room to go to her house. "Can you tell me?"
Jessa heaved a breath. Even that didn't sound right. They're too strangled, forced. "Mom and Dad," she said. My heart sank. "They didn't come home yesterday. I-I've been asking their friends, the neighbors, anyone, but no one saw them. Not even one. I—"
"Okay, okay," I put my calmest voice forth. "First, breathe. Jess, inhale. Exhale."
The other line cracked once more as she followed my instruction. "Great," I said. "Now, tell me the exact details of when you saw them last."
She sniffed and the sounds of scuffling could be heard from her side. Something hit wood in a loud boom. Papers shuffled. A chair slid against the tiles after being pulled. "Okay," her voice crackled from the speakers, calmer than before but still quite wobbly. "I saw them off from the door at 7:45 pm. They're supposed to attend a soiree with their college friends in an event place. I interviewed the other neighbors and they said they saw the car pass by the street at around that time. I called the event place. They said Mom and Dad went in just fine."
"How about when they got out?" I asked. I didn't like this with each passing second.
"The staff at the party finished but they lost track of my parents around the time the last song played," she continued. "I asked the neighbors about when they thought my parents were able to get back at the house and they gave me varying answers. Some said it's at 10 pm. Some, at 11 pm. There's even one who said 9 pm, which is absurd because who goes to a party at 8:30 and goes home at 9? My parents are politicians. They're trained to enjoy parties!"
She's getting off-track, like always, so I said, "What about the police? Have you called them?"
Jessa's voice dropped into a low drawl. "I don't trust them," she said. "If I trust my gut, I'd say they're involved in this."
