Is That Mom

Part 2 of Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Into the Unknown

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Part 2:

Meeting a Stranger

The chill of the morning air clung to Ethan as he stepped out of the motel and into the eerily quiet streets of Cargill. The fog hadn’t lifted from the night before, still hanging low over the cracked pavement and crumbling buildings like a suffocating blanket. The town’s desolation struck him even harder now that daylight filtered weakly through the mist, casting everything in a pale, washed-out hue.

He adjusted his jacket, feeling the coolness seep through the fabric, and started walking down the narrow street. His footsteps echoed faintly, the sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise silent town. As he moved past a small grocery store and a shuttered antique shop, he noticed the faint figures of people moving inside, their shadows glimpsed briefly through fogged windows. The few townsfolk he did see on the street moved with purpose, their eyes avoiding his gaze, their faces worn and unreadable. The weight of their suspicion was palpable.

Ethan pulled his collar tighter and tried to blend into the background, but it was clear he didn’t belong here. His presence was like a ripple in still water, unsettling everything around him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the town itself was aware of him, as if its secrets were whispering just out of earshot.

Up ahead, the faint outline of a sign came into view, a small café tucked between two decrepit buildings. The Cargill Diner looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades, but the warm glow inside beckoned him forward. He hoped it might offer more than just coffee and food—maybe, just maybe, someone in there knew something. Anything.

As he pushed open the door, a small bell jingled overhead, and the heavy scent of coffee and old wood enveloped him. The interior was dimly lit, with cracked vinyl booths and mismatched tables scattered throughout. A few locals sat hunched over their meals, muttering quietly among themselves. Their conversations came to an abrupt halt as Ethan walked in. Eyes flicked toward him, suspicion clear in their guarded glances. He felt the weight of their scrutiny settle over him like a shroud.

Ignoring the stares, Ethan slid into an empty booth near the window and glanced around. His eyes landed on a lone woman sitting at the far end of the café. She was hunched over a steaming cup of coffee, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her face, obscuring her features. There was something about her—an air of quiet tension that made her stand out among the other patrons. She didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge his presence, but Ethan’s gut told him that she was different. Important, somehow.

A waitress appeared at his side, her notepad out, but she barely spared him a glance as she took his order. “Just coffee,” Ethan muttered, his eyes still fixed on the woman. The waitress shuffled off, and Ethan leaned back in his seat, considering his next move.

The desperation gnawing at him had grown more intense since receiving the cryptic message last night. He needed information—about the town, about his mother—and the woman across the room seemed like his best shot. But something about her body language, the way she kept her head down, warned him to approach with caution. He had no idea who she was or what role she played in the tangled web of secrets surrounding his mother’s disappearance.

The coffee arrived, and Ethan barely touched it, his focus still on the woman. After a few more moments of hesitation, he made his decision. He stood up and walked slowly over to her booth, his footsteps quiet on the worn wooden floor. She didn’t look up as he approached, but when he stopped beside her table, she finally raised her eyes.

“Mind if I sit?” Ethan asked, his voice soft but firm.

The woman’s gaze met his, sharp and wary, her eyes a deep brown that seemed to study him intensely before she gave the slightest nod. He slid into the booth across from her, feeling the tension rise between them immediately.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The low murmur of conversation from the other patrons resumed, but it felt distant, as if they were the only two people in the room.

“I’m looking for someone,” Ethan began, his tone measured but direct. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, but he figured honesty—or at least part of it—was the best strategy. “My mother. She used to be connected to this town.”

The woman’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. Her wariness grew more pronounced, but she didn’t immediately dismiss him. Instead, she leaned back slightly, her eyes never leaving his face. “Lots of people come through here looking for someone,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a trace of bitterness. “Most of them don’t find what they’re looking for.”

Ethan felt a flicker of frustration. She wasn’t giving him anything concrete, but he pressed on. “She disappeared years ago,” he continued. “I have reason to believe this town is connected to her disappearance. I’m hoping someone here might know something.”

The woman’s gaze flickered, a brief, almost imperceptible shift, but enough for Ethan to notice. She knew something. She was holding back. He could feel it.

“What makes you think I would know anything about that?” she asked, her voice still guarded.

Ethan hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. He couldn’t afford to scare her off, but he needed her help. “I don’t know for sure,” he admitted. “But I’m running out of options. And you… you don’t seem like the other people here.”

The woman’s lips twitched in what could have been the beginning of a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re right about that,” she said softly. “I’m not like them. But that doesn’t mean I have the answers you’re looking for.”

Ethan leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Please. I’m not asking for much. Just… anything. A name, a place, something to go on.”

The woman studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Ethan could feel the weight of her hesitation, the caution in her movements. She was on guard, just as much as he was.

Finally, she sighed, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “Sarah,” she said, introducing herself. “But don’t think that means I’m going to help you. You’re digging into things you don’t understand, and this town has a way of swallowing people whole.”

Ethan’s pulse quickened. This was the closest thing to a lead he’d gotten since arriving. “I can handle myself,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Sarah’s eyes hardened. “That’s what they all say. But trust me, the deeper you dig, the more dangerous it gets. This place—there are things you don’t want to find.”

The tension between them was almost unbearable, but Ethan couldn’t walk away now. Not when he was this close. “I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “Not until I find out what happened to my mother.”

Sarah held his gaze for a long moment before she looked away, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. But there was something else in her voice—a flicker of uncertainty, maybe even fear.

Ethan was about to press her further when she stood up abruptly, pulling a few crumpled bills from her pocket and dropping them on the table. “Be careful,” she said, her tone final. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the café, leaving Ethan sitting alone in the booth, his heart pounding. He didn’t have the answers yet, but he had a name—Sarah—and a sense that she knew far more than she was letting on.

For the first time since arriving, he felt a spark of hope. But alongside it was a creeping sense of dread. Whatever he was getting into, it was clear that the town of Cargill wasn’t going to give up its secrets easily.

And neither, it seemed, was Sarah.