No one knows what happened next
Alisha’s eyes stayed locked on her tablet screen, the faint glow of it illuminating her serious face in the cool night air.
“According to the report,” she began, her voice steady but cold, “Audrey Miller disappeared on January 28, 2024. Before that, she went to her sister’s home to help with her niece. After she left… no one knows what happened next.”
Sam, standing beside her, frowned deeply. “Wait… Audrey Miller, Aubrey Moore, Aria Martin, Abegail Mayer, Adelia Murray, Anna Marshall, Atasha Martinez, Alice Morris, Ava Morton, Amelia Middleton, and Aurora Moss—did they all disappear on the same date too?”
Without answering right away, Alisha’s fingers moved quickly, flipping through the files on her tablet. She finally looked up. “Yes. January 28, February 28, March 28… and so on. Same date. Every single month.”
The wind rustled the dead leaves scattered on the cracked pavement, and Joel, leaning against the cold iron railing, narrowed his eyes. “Today is December 8,” he said grimly. “So… you think in twenty days, another girl will be missing?”
Alisha’s lips pressed into a tight line. “If the pattern holds… yes. Which means we need to find out who the suspect is—before December 28.”
They didn’t speak for a moment. The silence was heavy, the kind that made the air feel thicker, like something unseen was listening.
Then Joel pushed off the railing. “Let’s move. The longer we wait, the colder the trail gets.”
They crossed the neglected yard, making their way to the veranda of the house they had been staking out all afternoon. The wood beneath their feet groaned, as though warning them to turn back.
Sam glanced around uneasily. “Do you really think it’s abandoned?”
Alisha gave him a sharp look. “Let’s find out.”
Pushing the door open, they stepped inside—and froze.
From the outside, the house was a ruin: paint peeling, shutters hanging loose, weeds claiming the porch. But the inside…
It was too clean.
The floors were swept, the furniture dusted. A faint smell of lemon cleaner lingered in the air, sharp and out of place in such a forsaken building. There were no cobwebs. The curtains were drawn neatly.
Joel muttered under his breath, “This isn’t right…”
Before Alisha could respond, the sound of tires crunching over gravel echoed outside. A car door slammed, then another.
An old man’s voice boomed from the front yard, hard and accusing. “Who are you? What are you doing here? Trespassing in our property!”
An equally sharp female voice followed. “Get out before we call the police!”
Alisha stepped forward quickly, raising her hands to show she meant no harm. “My name is Alisha Murphy from ABC News. I’m investigating the disappearance of Audrey Miller.”
The old couple stood in the doorway now, their faces weathered, eyes filled with suspicion and something darker… grief.
At the mention of Audrey’s name, the old woman’s expression cracked. Her eyes glistened, and her voice trembled. “We… we stopped hoping a long time ago.”
Joel frowned. “Are you… her parents?”
The old man’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he gave a slow nod. “No… not her parents. We are… her grandparents.”
Alisha’s brows furrowed. “Grandparents?”
The old woman looked down, twisting her hands together. “Her real mother… was the sister she thought she had. Abegail. Audrey never knew. We told her we were her parents so people wouldn’t know. Abegail was only thirteen when she had her. Too young… too much shame. So we raised her as our own.”
Sam’s voice was low, tinged with shock. “So… the day Audrey disappeared, you thought she left because she found out the truth? Because she was angry?”
The old man nodded sadly. “Yes. We thought she just… wanted to get away from us. To get away from the lies.”
Joel stepped closer, his tone firm. “Then why did you report her missing? If you thought she left on her own?”
The old woman’s lips trembled, and tears slid down her cheeks. “Because… because deep down, we knew something was wrong. We hoped if we told the police, she’d come home. But…” She choked on her words. “But the neighbors said they saw… someone take her.”
A long silence stretched between them. Somewhere deep in the house, the wind pushed against the old walls, creating a hollow, sighing sound—almost like the house itself was breathing.
Alisha exchanged a glance with Joel. “Did you ever find out who took her?”
The old man shook his head slowly. “No. No one ever saw the face. Just a shadow… tall, standing by the street. And then… she was gone.”
Sam’s grip tightened around the strap of his bag. “And all the other girls? The ones who disappeared on the 28th… you think it’s connected?”
The old couple didn’t answer. But the look in their eyes said they believed it—more than they cared to admit.
Finally, the old woman spoke in a low, almost trembling voice. “We don’t know what happened to the other women… but our Audrey—she was taken. We’re sure of it.”
The old man’s weathered hands tightened into fists. “We keep this house clean,” he said, his voice rough with years of grief. “Even though we live somewhere else now. If she ever comes back, she’ll still have a place here… a home.”
Alisha tilted her head, suspicion flickering in her gaze. “What proof do you have that she was abducted?”
The old man took a slow breath. “Our maid told us. That night, she was on leave and went to church. On her way back, she saw Audrey. She tried to call her so they could walk home together… but Audrey was running. She looked terrified.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “The maid tried to catch up… but then she saw him.”
“Who?” Joel asked sharply.
The old man’s eyes darkened. “A hooded man. Following her.”
Alisha, Joel, and Sam froze, their eyes locking on each other.
A hooded man. Again.