Dinner was a lively affair, filled with his mother’s laughter and warm smiles. She had cooked another of his favorite meals, and his uncle had dropped by with dessert—a decadent chocolate cake that they all shared over lighthearted conversation.
Yet, despite the cheer around him, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that had settled in his chest since the morning. The image of the missing girl from the flyer lingered in his mind, her shy smile contrasting starkly with the desperate plea beneath her photo.
“Are you all right, dear?” his mother asked, noticing his quietness as she cleared the table.
He forced a smile. “Yeah, just a little tired from the run this morning.”
She gave him a concerned look but nodded. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been through so much lately.”
He agreed and excused himself to his room, but rest felt impossible. As night fell, the unease grew stronger, settling over him like a heavy, invisible weight.
The familiar comforts of his bedroom did little to soothe him. His cat was curled up at the foot of the bed, its rhythmic breathing a soft reassurance. He tried distracting himself by flipping through one of his old books, but the words swam on the page, unable to hold his attention. His gaze kept wandering to the cactus on the windowsill, the moonlight casting sharp shadows on its spines.
The room felt different tonight. The air was colder, heavier. He turned off the bedside lamp and lay down, hoping sleep would come quickly.
It didn’t.
Hours seemed to pass in silence, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves outside and the faint ticking of the clock. Just as he began to drift off, a soft movement caught his eye.
The shadow was back.
At first, it was just a vague, shifting blur near the window. He froze, his breath caught in his throat. Slowly, the shadow grew clearer, taking on a shape—a figure.
And then he saw her.
It was the girl from the flyer. Her image was unmistakable: the same youthful face, the same shy smile, now twisted into something sadder, more haunting. Her eyes were wide, filled with a sorrow that seemed to pierce straight through him.
“Help...”
The word was a whisper, soft but chilling, carrying an eerie echo that seemed to fill the room. Her lips moved slowly, repeating the plea. “Help me...”
He sat up abruptly, his heart pounding. His cat hissed, leaping off the bed and retreating to a corner. He wanted to speak, to ask her what she meant, but his voice felt trapped in his throat.
Her form flickered, as though she were caught between this world and another. She raised a hand, pointing toward the window. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for a split second, and her face became clearer—her eyes hollow, her expression pleading.
And then she was gone.
The room was silent again, save for the distant rumble of thunder. He sat there in the dark, his chest heaving, sweat dampening his forehead. His cat crept cautiously back onto the bed, pressing itself close to him, its body trembling.
He glanced at the window, half expecting to see her again. But the shadows were just shadows now, still and ordinary.
His mind raced. The flyer. The girl. The shadow. None of it could be a coincidence.
Her voice echoed in his ears, soft yet insistent. Help me.
Sleep was out of the question now. He reached for the flyer on his desk, unfolding it and staring at her face again. The uneasiness was gone, replaced by something stronger: determination.
Whatever was happening, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. She needed his help.
* * *
