4 years ago Sydney Cameron was kidnapped. She was able to escape but nobody believes her story. What happens when more children begin to go missing? Will anyone believe her?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sydney was 13 now, and though she was young, her heart had grown used to carrying burdens heavier than most her age. She woke to the gentle sound of raindrops tapping against her window, a rare soothing moment in the chaos that often defined her mornings. The rhythmic patter of rain was almost comforting, offering her a brief reprieve from the tension that always seemed to hang in the air. She lingered in bed for a few minutes, savoring the peacefulness, before dragging herself up and heading for the shower.
The hot water cascaded over her, and for those few moments, she let herself imagine a life different from her own—a life where she didn't have to worry about what awaited her downstairs. The steam wrapped around her like a protective blanket, and she closed her eyes, relishing the temporary escape. But soon enough, reality tugged at her, reminding her that she couldn't hide in the bathroom forever. She dressed with quiet care, pulling on her favorite hoodie and jeans, clothes that made her feel just a little bit more shielded from the world.
When she descended the stairs, the familiar and unwelcome scent hit her—the stench of alcohol. Her heart sank, though she had known what to expect. Sure enough, her mother lay sprawled across the couch, unconscious, surrounded by a sea of empty beer bottles. It was an all-too-common scene, one that no longer shocked Sydney but still weighed heavy on her every time she saw it. She paused at the foot of the stairs, staring at her mother's lifeless form, wondering for a fleeting moment if things would ever change.
But Sydney knew better than to linger. Waking her mother now would only lead to yelling, accusations, or worse. She slipped on her rain jacket, careful not to make a sound as she grabbed her backpack and quietly exited the house, closing the door behind her with practiced silence.
The chilly morning air nipped at her skin as she grabbed her bike and pedaled off toward school. The rain had lessened to a light drizzle, and the droplets splattered against her hood as she rode. The rhythmic hum of the bike's wheels against the wet pavement normally helped clear her mind, but today, something felt off. Her eyes caught sight of a black van creeping along the street, moving just slowly enough to unsettle her.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, and instinctively, Sydney stopped pedaling, watching as the van slowly rolled past her. Just as her heart began to race, the van suddenly sped up, disappearing around the corner with a loud roar of its engine. She stood frozen for a second, her unease gnawing at her gut. "That was odd," she muttered under her breath, trying to shake off the strange feeling. After taking a deep breath, she resumed her ride, focusing instead on the rain's steady cadence and the familiar path ahead.
Ten minutes later, she arrived at school, dripping from the ride but grateful to have made it. The building was already buzzing with life as students hurried inside to escape the rain. Sydney locked her bike to the rack, the cold metal biting at her fingers, and paused for a moment to gather herself. As she stepped through the school doors, the warmth of the building wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, pushing the unease from the van to the back of her mind. Here, at least, she felt safe.
The day passed in a blur of routine until her math class at the end of the day. Sydney sat beside her best friend Claudia, the tension in the room thick as their teacher announced a surprise quiz for the following day. Groans erupted from the class, and Sydney couldn't help but smile at the collective despair of her classmates.
"I'm going to fail this," Claudia groaned, throwing her head onto her desk dramatically.
"You'll be fine," Sydney reassured her, stifling a laugh.
"No, seriously. I don't get any of this!" Claudia moaned, her hands covering her face. "I'm doomed!"
Sydney's kind heart couldn't resist. "I could help tutor you if you want," she offered, her voice soft but sincere.
Claudia's face lit up immediately, her distress replaced with relief. "Really? Oh my god, Syd, thank you! You're a lifesaver!" Without warning, she pulled Sydney into a tight hug. "Can we stay after school and go over it in the library? I really need the help."
"Sure," Sydney replied, laughing as she returned the hug. "The library sounds perfect."
For the next two hours, the girls sat in the quiet corner of the library, heads bent over notebooks as Sydney patiently walked Claudia through each problem. Sydney had a gift for explaining things in a way that made them easier to understand, and she could tell Claudia was beginning to grasp the material. As they worked, a sense of peace washed over her—helping Claudia gave her a purpose beyond the pain of her home life, and their bond was a bright spot in an otherwise dark world.
When they finally finished, Claudia stretched and let out a sigh of relief. "I think I actually get it now! Syd, seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you."
Sydney smiled, her heart warm. "You'll ace it tomorrow. I'm sure of it."
"You're too good to me," Claudia laughed, giving Sydney another quick hug as they packed up their things. "I owe you big time."
As they exited the school building, Claudia spotted her mother's car waiting at the curb. "There's my ride!" she called, beaming at Sydney. "Thank you again so much. I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Of course, Claud! Anytime," Sydney replied, waving as her friend climbed into the car. A sense of accomplishment filled her—today, at least, had been a good day.
Once Claudia had driven off, Sydney retrieved her bike from the rack and began her ride home, the rain having eased to a light mist. The air felt fresher now, and the unease from earlier had faded, replaced by the warmth of having helped a friend. As the familiar streets blurred past her, she felt, for just a moment, that perhaps things could be different. Perhaps there was more to her world than the pain she carried.
