Varekai: The Wings of Veridis

Chapter 1

On the 22nd floor of The Shard, London, the glass-walled conference suite filled steadily as journalists and reporters took their seats. It was the annual press conference of Missing Without Contact (MWC) a charity founded in 2003, first as a small support group and now an international organisation dedicated to locating missing young men and women. Over time, its remit expanded to include all individuals who disappear under unusual or unexplained circumstances.

At the front of the room, Janet McPherson, CEO and founder, stepped up to the podium. She paused, gathered herself, and began.

"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for coming. I know you all have busy schedules, so I'll get straight to it. Since our last annual meeting, MWC has reunited **129 missing persons** with their families, confirmed the deaths of **317 individuals**, and assisted authorities with evidence in **454 active cases**. These numbers represent real people, real families, and real hope."

She exhaled slowly, her voice tightening.

"It's no coincidence that our conference is today. Today marks **fifteen years** since my daughter, Isla, went missing. I still have hope she's alive. I still have hope she'll be found. And Isla... if you're watching this... my phone number is still the same. Just call me. Let me know you're okay."

Her voice broke. Before the room could fully absorb the moment, her long‑time best friend, "Black' Janet Campbell stepped forward and gently took her place.

"We continue to support families with mental healthcare, alcohol abuse support, and crisis intervention," Campbell said firmly. "Next year, we will open a day‑care respite centre for families of murder victims, located in Ware, Hertfordshire. It will be the first centre of its kind, focusing on both mental and physical rehabilitation for families living with trauma. As ever, please continue to donate — your contributions make these services possible."

Campbell's daughter and MWC Press Officer, Shanice Campbell, approached the podium next.

"Any questions?"

A hand shot up. "Yes — The Herald. Ms McPherson, your personal income has recently been under scrutiny. How much do you pay yourself in bonuses from the organisation's net profits?"

Janet returned to the microphone, composed but visibly drained.

"I do not make any personal financial gain from Missing Without Contact. I do not pay myself bonuses. My personal wealth comes from a trust fund established by my partner prior to his death."

Another reporter stood. "Hunter Goldman, Channel 7 News. How do you respond to allegations that your partner had no National Insurance number, wasn't listed on any database, and that there is no financial trail for the trust fund he set up?"

Before Janet could speak, Campbell stepped in sharply.

"Are you recording live?" she asked.

Goldman shook his head.

"Great. Let's see how much of this your editors dare to use. You and your channel are trash. Your stories are trash. And you, Goldman, are the biggest piece of trash in the room. Now that that's out there — how can you expect her to have answers about something that happened in the late eighties? A relationship where the man spent more time dying than living? When she was left with a two‑year‑old child? Get a grip, you vile piece of shit."

Shanice quickly ushered her mother away from the podium, then returned with a strained but professional smile.

"Thank you. There will be no further questions. You have my email — send anything pressing and I'll respond today. And please, remember to donate."