Lost & Found

THE MORNING AFTER

The night passed in a haze of restless thoughts and fleeting nightmares. When morning finally came, I forced myself out of bed, my mind heavy with the events of the previous night. I knew Uncle Cyrus would be waiting, and I braced myself for whatever explanation he might offer.

As I stepped into the dining room, Uncle Cyrus was already seated at the table, sipping his coffee. He looked up as I entered, his expression inscrutable.

"Good morning, Isla," he greeted me, his tone deceptively calm. "Have a seat. We need to talk."

I sat down, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. He watched me for a moment before speaking.

"I suppose you have questions about what you saw last night," he began, setting his cup down. "It's understandable. Let me explain."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.

"The photographs and documents you found are part of an investigation I've been conducting for years," he said, his voice steady. "The girl in the photograph is my daughter, Eliza. She and her mother—my wife—disappeared eleven years ago. I've been trying to find them ever since."

The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, struggling to process his words. "Your daughter?" I repeated, my voice shaky.

He nodded, his expression somber. "Yes. Eliza was taken from me, and I've been trying to piece together what happened. The children you saw in the documents are others who went missing under similar circumstances. I'm trying to find a pattern, to understand who is behind these abductions."

His explanation was plausible, but it didn't entirely dispel my unease. There was something in his eyes, a glint of something darker, that kept me on edge.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't want to burden you," he replied, his tone almost gentle. "You've already been through so much with your parents. But I see now that you deserve to know the truth. I want to protect you, Isla. You're the only family I have left."

His words were convincing, but the memory of his grip on my arm, his cold, calculating gaze, lingered in my mind. I nodded slowly, unsure of what to believe.

Uncle Cyrus leaned back in his chair, his demeanor shifting slightly. "Now, there's another matter we need to discuss. You'll be starting school next week."

"School?" I echoed, taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I've enrolled you in Blackwood Academy. It's a reputable school, and I believe it will be good for you to have some normalcy in your life."

The idea of returning to school, of trying to fit into a new environment while dealing with everything that had happened, felt overwhelming. But Uncle Cyrus was insistent.

"I'll drive you there on the first day," he continued. "You'll have all the supplies you need. It's important for you to focus on your education and try to lead a normal life, despite the circumstances."

I nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and dread. School might offer a distraction, a semblance of normalcy, but it also meant more time away from the house, away from Uncle Cyrus's watchful eyes. Maybe, just maybe, it would give me a chance to figure out what to do next.

"Thank you," I said softly, trying to mask my apprehension.

Uncle Cyrus smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're welcome, Isla. I want you to feel safe and supported here. We'll get through this together."