Cindy and her father, Warma, had gone home, both of them doing everything they could think of to find answers.
Cindy had practically blown up her phone, sending message after message, scrolling through her contacts and texting nearly the entire school. Has anyone seen Abby? Did anyone hear from her?
Most people replied. Some didn’t know anything, others gave useless guesses, but at least they answered. All except one person, Max.
His silence lingered like a stone in her stomach, but she didn’t have the time to dwell on why he wasn’t responding. Right now, she wasn’t looking for explanations, she just wanted to know what had happened to her best friend.
Meanwhile, Warma had been fighting his own desperate battle for information. He’d called Aron, a man he trusted to handle dangerous situations. If anyone could do something, maybe Max and Aron together could.
Surprisingly, Aron had already known about everything going on. But Max... Max was in a hospital bed.
That detail alone made Warma’s chest tighten. Whatever this was, it was dangerous, dangerous enough that he decided not to tell Cindy anything yet. Better to keep her away from it for as long as possible.
Eventually, though, the call came. Warma’s phone lit up and buzzed in his hand.
He answered upstairs, away from Cindy, who sat slouched at the dining table downstairs, her phone in her hands, her mood heavy as stone.
"I see... I... I understand," Warma said into the phone, his voice quiet and strained. "You can’t share anything else beyond this, can you?"
On the other end, Detective Marvin spoke.
"I’m breaking the rules just by telling you this," Marvin admitted. "In situations like these, everyone’s a suspect, your daughter, you, everyone. Normally, no details are allowed out. But... I’ve got a knack for keeping track of things. And seeing how distraught your daughter was... I thought she deserved an answer."
And with that, the call ended.
Warma stayed frozen for a moment, the phone heavy in his hand. Then he started down the stairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as though his legs were made of lead. His chest ached, his heart sinking lower and lower into the pit of his stomach.
He reached the kitchen doorway. Cindy was still there, her head resting on her folded arms, eyes locked on her phone, waiting for a message that wasn’t coming.
"Cindy..." Warma’s voice broke before he could say more. "I just got off the phone with the detective. I... I..."
The moment she saw his face, Cindy’s eyes filled. The tears came fast, and then the sound, ragged, loud, uncontrollable.
"No! No, no, NO!" she screamed, the cry tearing through the house. "NOOO!"
Her voice cracked, her hands clutching at the table as though she could hold onto something solid before the world collapsed completely around her.
Warma pulled a chair close and sat right beside her. Without saying a word, he let Cindy’s head fall against his chest. His arms closed around her, holding her steady as the sobs shook her shoulders. The tears didn’t stop, and he didn’t try to stop them, he just stayed there, a quiet wall for her to lean on while her world cracked apart.
By the time the sun had risen, miles away at the Pit, Sandra was keeping a close watch on Chad.

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