Ink Between Us

Haunted by secrets

Returning to her routine without being haunted by everything that was happening was worse than she thought. The sudden loss of her father was already hard enough, but finding the letters only deepened the sense that he had been a stranger with hidden secrets she never had the chance to fully uncover.

In the days that followed, sleep escaped Sierra entirely. What else had he kept hidden? What paths had he taken in search of answers? Sierra felt like she was standing before a giant puzzle, and the letters were just the tip of the iceberg.

"Should I analyze the handwriting? Track down old friends? Did I miss something important in his office?" The restless questions swirled in her mind like a storm.

Determined to find anything that could fill in the gaps, she returned to the office. This time, she moved with greater care and methodical precision. If there was an answer, it had to be here—and it was up to her to find it since no-one else was interested.

Sierra scanned every shelf, drawer, and pile of papers until something caught her eye. At the bottom of the last drawer in the desk, hidden behind books on modern history, was a metal box worn by time.

With trembling hands, she opened the box. Inside was a pile of yellowed papers: old newspapers, unsent letters, and clippings detailing disappearances along the East Coast of the United States.

She spread the documents out on the floor, trying to absorb as much information as she could. One of the oldest clippings, from 1997, reported on the increasing exploitation of young people in cities like Miami and New York. Another article described the I-95 highway, a well-known corridor connecting major metropolitan areas—and a route frequently used for human trafficking.

Among these papers were also market trend reports and articles on emerging technology—details that seemed disconnected from the rest. Sierra furrowed her brow, struggling to understand why her father would keep such disparate information. But then, it clicked: it made sense.

David had spent his career in finance, dealing with high-profile clients and investing in ventures related to international trade. Export, import, the circulation of goods... or people? An unsettling thought began to form in her mind.

Even though she couldn't yet grasp the full scope of what he had uncovered, one thing was certain: her father had been chasing a truth much larger than simple nostalgia for the past.

Next to the clippings and articles, she found a list of addresses scribbled in his neat handwriting—locations in New York and Miami. Had he tried to retrace Sophia's steps? Years after they had lost touch, had he still been looking for her? But why? And why had he never mentioned any of this?

At the bottom of the box, she found a plain envelope with her birthdate written on it: 09/09/2001. Her heart raced and a strange mix of emotions swept over her. Part of her found it sweet—there was something tender about her father keeping a memento tied to the day she was born. Yet, at the same time, unease crept in. Why would her father keep something so specific about the day she was born?

She hesitated, but took a deep breath and opened the envelope. There was a printed email, dated the day after her birth.

From:  soph.deleger ... .com

Subject: Finally found you again

David,

It's been a long time, huh?

Life took unexpected turns, and we went our separate ways, but something compelled me to search for you again. It's strange—or maybe ironic—that I found your contact during an audit at my current job. The financial world is still a labyrinth, and it seems you still know how to hide in the most unlikely corners.

I heard you have a daughter now. Sierra, right? I recognize that name... It seems you kept your part of the promise. I'd be enchanted to meet her someday.

I'm in the big apple city right now for an important, last-minute meeting and you know I'll definitely be treating myself to a few martinis after.

After that I'll be traveling to LA to visit family. I was wondering... Maybe we could meet. We don't need to resolve the past, but it would be good to see you one last time.

Yours,

Sophia

Sierra read the email over and over, trying to make sense of what it meant. Sophia had found her father during an audit? How was that even possible? What exactly did she do for a living? From the letters, it didn't seem like she worked in finance... Something about the way Sophia wrote felt too deliberate, as if there were hidden meanings behind her words.

The most puzzling part was the melancholic tone. "One last time." What had she meant by that? And why had her father never mentioned that Sophia had reached out to him? Had he responded to the email? Or had she never had the chance to meet them?

The fact that Sophia knew about Sierra shook her to the core. She was going to visit. She knew I existed. But something —or someone— had prevented that reunion from happening.

Sierra tucked the email back into the envelope and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to organize her mind. Until now, she had believed the letters were sentimental keepsakes her father had kept in secret. But now, it was clear that he had been waiting—until the very end—for Sophia to appear again, if only to explain what had happened.

If Sophia had intended to visit him when I was born, what had stopped her? Why did she mention my name? And how did she even know about my birth?

Sierra knew the search for answers was far from being over. The story between David and Sophia was more complicated than an unfinished romance. And now, Sierra had to uncover why her father had spent all those years searching for Sophia and what he knew about her fate.

With one last glance at the email, Sierra made a silent promise to herself: "I'll finish what my father started - for both him and Sophia - no matter how long it had been". Because some truths cannot stay buried forever. And others... well, others cannot follow us to the grave.