Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Lucas wasn’t big on social media, but he followed a few local Facebook groups—mostly ones related to Black Water, his school, sports, movies, and bands he liked. No support groups or anything remotely related to disappearances.
Something was missing.
"Was your mom on Facebook?" I asked Nick.
"Just for the store. I helped her set it up. Why?"
"I’m checking if there’s anything online connecting all these people. Like a group or something. Did she ever mention anything like that?"
"Not to me." Nick lay on his stomach in front of the fireplace, lazily browsing something on his laptop. He looked so relaxed that he almost seemed like a completely different person. In fact, it was only the second time I’d seen him let his guard down like that.
And both times, it had been with me. It was flattering, but it made my heart race and my thoughts scatter.
I rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the unwarranted thoughts, forcing my brain back to the papers scattered in front of me.
The very last name, a disappearance from five years ago, was too common to be found.
A multitude of people showed up, but none resembled the photo, nor did they appear to be missing or inactive over the past few years.
Some obituaries also appeared, although they were all for someone else.
Frustrated, I shut the laptop and lay on the floor.
"It’s nice here. Peaceful," Nick said, turning to his side to face me.
And it was, if I could forget the near-death experience, the possible cult, at least two murders, a ghostly deer, a missing child, and the strange symbols carved into trees.
The cabin, isolated off the main road, stood amidst towering trees barely kissed by fall colors, enveloped in a damp, wet fog.
It felt as though we were cut off from the world, a comforting yet claustrophobic experience, the fundamental human tug between solitude and connection.
Perhaps Nick only liked it here because, unlike at home, he wasn’t alone.
"Do you ever feel lonely? At home, I mean?" I asked him.
"Sometimes."
"Why don’t you move, then? To a bigger city, for instance?"
He thought for a few seconds. "It’s an illusion to think you’re not alone just because you’re in a crowded city. You’re often more isolated, more disconnected, than when you’re by yourself."
I "hmmed" indecisively, not sure what to add.
For a few moments, we lay in silence; the only sounds the steady patter of rain on the window and the soft crackle of the fireplace. Then, Nick reciprocated the question.
"Do you feel lonely?"
"All the time," I blurted without a second thought. And then, slowly, "Sometimes I wonder if I’ve ever truly not felt alone, even before... everything."
Nick’s hand rested gently on mine, his warmth seeping into me as steady as the fire and the rain into the earth. He looked me straight in the eye.
"Loneliness isn’t the absence of people. It’s the lack of genuine connection."
I didn’t always feel lonely with Lucas, but decided to keep that to myself. Instead, I asked, "Do you think all these people were lonely? And that’s why nobody noticed they were gone?"
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me.
"I guess."
I sat up, a sudden wave of nerves tightening my chest. Sure, Lucas had a family, friends, and me. But Amanda only had estranged siblings. Nick’s mom had just him, and he lived across the country. And the others who’d gone missing didn’t seem to have anyone who cared enough to look for them.
"Nobody was really looking for them. Maybe a missing person flyer here and there, but even those felt half-hearted. Maybe it’s because they had no one.
" I paused, letting the realization sink in.
"What if that’s how they were chosen? Through support groups, or maybe this specific one. We need to talk to the admins."
"Lucas’s profile still doesn’t fit," Nick said, looking directly at me.
"Right..." I frowned. "But we’re onto something. With Lucas, I just don’t know. Maybe he’s not connected after all. But how could he not be? What if he and Duane got involved because they were investigating, just like we are? What if this," I gestured to the stack of photos, "is what got them—"
"Killed?" Nick echoed. "Maybe."
I wished we had asked Duane while we still had the chance. But back then, we didn’t even know what we were looking for. And now, it was too late.
"We need to find the place in the woods," Nick continued matter-of-factly. "I know we were close. I know it."
For a moment, he seemed far away, as though his mind had already wandered into the trees, walking the trails while his body sat still beside me.
"I really hope we don’t have to hike in this rain," I said, my voice pulling him out of his thoughts.
He turned to me again, our faces just inches apart. My breath caught, heart stumbling in my chest.
Then my phone buzzed.
It was a text from June, along with a blurry, poorly lit photo. It looked like it had been taken quickly, probably before anyone noticed. In the background stood a small figure. A little boy. Even with the bad quality, I recognized him immediately.
It was Sammy.