Chapter 29 – The Lost Girl
Chapter 29 – The Lost Girl
Sarah could not sleep so she sat hunched over her desk, the glow of her computer screen casting her office in shades of blue and gray. She scrolled through archived articles again and again, her pulse quickening every time Lisa’s name appeared.
Lisa, the girl who had vanished, leaving only whispers and suspicions behind.
But tonight, Sarah was not looking for Lisa. She was following a new lead.
Buried in a stack of reports, a small detail caught her attention: a missing persons notice that had gone mostly unnoticed. Hannah Moretti. Reported missing six months ago. Last seen leaving a late-night diner near her apartment. Her sister?
Sarah leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. The surname tugged at her memory. She opened another article she had bookmarked Lisa’s last known record. And there it was: Lisa Moretti.
Her breath stilled.
Lisa had a sister.
And no one had been talking about her.
The realization slammed into Sarah’s chest like a fist. She sat back, rubbing her temples. Emily had sworn she had seen Lisa at the gala, dancing with Alex only for the woman to vanish. But what if Emily had not seen Lisa at all? What if she had seen Hannah?
Sarah’s gut twisted. Was that why Hannah had disappeared? Had she been dragged into the same nightmare that had taken Lisa?
She printed the missing persons notice, her hands trembling slightly as the machine spat it out. The words on the page looked stark under the fluorescent lights: No confirmed sightings.... Case unresolved..... Family declining interviews.
Sarah’s instincts screamed that this mattered. The killer was weaving a pattern, a story, and she and Emily were trapped in the middle of it.
She could not bring Emily into this at least not yet. Emily was already unraveling, haunted by shadows, fire, and phantom kidnappers disguised as drivers. If Sarah added Hannah’s disappearance to her worries, it might break her.
No. She needed to handle this alone.
Pulling her phone closer, Sarah began searching Hannah’s social connections. Her name yielded few results, most of her profiles scrubbed or locked down. But eventually, Sarah unearthed something promising: a tagged photo of Hannah with a young woman named Sophie Delgado. The caption read: Besties forever. Night out!
Sophie Delgado.
Sarah jotted down the name, quickly pulling up records. A student at the community college. Currently living in the same city. A recent post on her profile: Missing my girl every day. #ComeHomeHannah.
Sarah exhaled slowly. This was it. A thread.
She crafted a careful message, not from her work email, but from a private account she kept for delicate matters.
~ Hi Sophie, my name is Sarah. I am a journalist working on the disappearance of Hannah Moretti. I believe you may have information. Would you be willing to meet in person?
She hesitated only a moment before hitting send.
The reply came faster than she expected.
~ I do not trust journalists. They twist things. But… I will talk as long as you promise to find my best friend. We can see Tonight... Midnight. Meet me at the parking lot on Ashford and 9th.
Sarah’s pulse jumped. Midnight. Ashford and 9th was desolate at that hour, but she did not care. This was a chance to break the silence, to get closer to the truth.
Still, she had the sense to be discreet.
She scribbled the address in her notebook, shut off her computer, and left the Emily’s apartment, her stomach coiled tight.
\~~~
The night air was colder than expected, sharp against Sarah’s cheeks as she pulled her coat tighter around her. The city quieted at this hour, traffic thinning, leaving streets darker and lonelier. Her heels clicked against the cracked pavement as she approached Ashford and 9th.
The parking lot was half-lit, a lone streetlamp flickering overhead. A row of cars stood silent, their metal gleaming dully under the yellow light.
Sarah checked her phone. 11:57.
Three minutes early. She tucked herself into the shadows by a wall, eyes scanning the lot.
Minutes passed. The sound of her own breathing grew louder.
12:05.
No Sophie.
Sarah shifted her weight uneasily, checking her phone again. No new messages.... Just silence.
Her pulse began to drum harder. Something was wrong.
And then headlights.
A small sedan turned into the lot, rolling slowly to a stop a few yards away. Sarah’s chest loosened slightly. The car was an older model, navy blue, dent on the rear bumper. Sarah waited for a few minutes then decided to heard towards the road to hail a cab. As she got closer to the blue car she sights Sophie in the car.
Sarah stepped forward, raising a hand in greeting. But as the lights in the car dimmed, her relief curdled into dread.
Sophie sat slumped in the driver’s seat, her head tilted unnaturally to the side. A dark stain spread across her blouse, gleaming wet in the dim light.
Sarah’s heart stopped.
She ran forward, fumbling with the door handle. It gave under her hand, and Sophie’s body toppled sideways, lifeless. Her throat cut clean, a savage line of red.
Sarah staggered back, bile rising in her throat. Her hand shook so violently she almost dropped her phone as she fumbled to dial emergency services.
But before she could press the numbers, something cold and sharp pressed against her face.
A gloved hand.
The smell of leather and smell of a chemical filled her nostrils as another hand clamped tight over her mouth.
Sarah struggled, thrashing wildly, but the grip was iron and unyielding.
Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground.
The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her was Sophie’s blank, bloodied stare.
And then everything went black.