Page 5 of Into the Dark, We Go
"Please, give us ten minutes," Mitchell pleaded. "I’ll explain everything, and if you tell us to leave, we will. We don’t want trouble. We’re just trying to find our sister." He studied my face earnestly. "Ten minutes," he repeated. "And we’ll go."
June glared beneath her tilted hat.
I wanted to tell them to leave now, but something about them held my tongue. Despite June’s hostility, their presence felt sincere. They didn’t seem like the usual roaches who sought to feed off tragedy. It had been two years—two whole years of silence, wondering, and aching—but if there was a chance they knew something about Lucas, I couldn’t let it go.
"I’ll get my colleague to cover," I said, apologizing to the punters. "Anna?"
We settled at an outside table.The sun beat down like a furious God, and I winced beneath its fist. Across from me, Mitchell sat ramrod straight, his tall, broad frame casting a shadow that I ducked into. His sister slouched beside him. I wrapped my arms around myself, despite the warmth.
"Ten minutes," I clarified.
Mitchell began without hesitation, "Our sister, Amanda, went missing last September. No one knows what happened to her."
"She was heading home late that night. We saw the CCTV footage. The streetlamp flickered, then everything went dark. And then... she was just gone," June said, almost reluctantly.
"That’s why we wanted to talk to you. It’s kind of like what we read about your boyfriend—how he just disappeared," Mitchell added.
A chill coursed through me. Theories about Lucas’s disappearance abounded, including some that ventured into the supernatural, but that didn’t necessarily mean their sister was linked to it.
June pushed her phone toward me. I took it gingerly, studying the photo of a young woman in her late twenties. Her shy smile and blonde hair shared an unmistakable likeness to her siblings.
But I didn’t recognize this face. All I knew was that thousands of people vanished every year, some by choice. It was a hard pill to swallow, but anyone who’d ever had to deal with a missing loved one had to accept it at some point. I kept those thoughts to myself.
"I’ve never seen her, sorry," I said, empathetic.
Mitchell shook his head, with a faint, sorrowful smile.No worries,it said. And then, with a glimmer of hope, "Do you think your guy could’ve known her? Has he ever mentioned an Amanda?"
I thought about it for a second.
"Not that I remember. Sorry, but your sister went missing half a thousand miles away from here. I don’t think they’ve met." I started picking at my bracelet but forced myself to stop, not wanting to give away my nervousness or any personal information.
Mitchell hesitated. "We’re not sure if there’s a connection, but?—"
"We found an article about your boyfriend when we were looking for Amanda," his sister interjected, "about people vanishing without a trace from public places. We thought it might be something. His case was kinda big."
She gave me a challenging glare, as if trying to elicit a reaction. I didn’t bite.
Mitchell let his sister finish her thought and said, "And there’s more: Amanda went missing around the same time, a year later. September of last year. I know how stupid it sounds now that I’m saying it out loud—" He trailed off.
The sun ducked behind a cloud, and we all visibly chilled. Their motivation for speaking with me was questionable. They could’ve gone anywhere in the country and spoken to anyone with a missing loved one, but why here? How the hell did they come to the conclusion that I, of all people, was the one they had to speak to?
I swiped through more photos of Amanda until one caught my eye: a picture of a tree. But it wasn’t the tree itself that drew me in. It was the carving on its trunk. The symbol resembled an eye in a circle, intricately detailed and eerily occult. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie. As Sarah would say, it had a "very dark vibe." Yet, the carving felt strangely familiar.
"What is this?" I asked, turning the phone to Mitchell.
"I don’t know. It was just there." He looked between me and the screen. "Do you know what it is?"
"No, but I think I’ve seen it before."
"Where?" he asked.
"In Lucas’s things, drawn on a Post-It note." I recalled the wide, observant eye, the press of pencil so hard it had nearly pierced the paper. "I thought they were just scribbles. I’m not entirely sure."
I studied the carvings closer, but the more I looked, the more I doubted if it was the same. "They kinda look similar. Might be nothing, though."
"Or might be something." June’s tone was pushy. She looked very young, barely eighteen. The same age I was when I met Lucas. Probably just as naive. And she was eager to find connections, even where none existed.
"Sorry, guys, I’m not sure what you want from me. I really don’t know anything. Is there anything else?" Something was unsettling about this entire thing. Lucas’s obsession with his talismans was cute and quirky, but this made me deeply uncomfortable.
