MISSING

MISSING

Chapter 1 – Matt – March 12th, 7:30 AM
Matt was still half-asleep when his phone rang, the shrill tone slicing through the quiet of his apartment. He groaned, fumbling for it on the nightstand. The screen flashed "Marissa".
"Matt?" Her voice trembled. Panic laced every syllable. "It's... it's Liam. He's... he's gone."
Matt bolted upright, heart hammering. "What do you mean gone? Where is he?"
"I... I don't know!" Marissa's voice broke. "I checked his room this morning... and he wasn't there. The window was closed, the door locked... I don't understand!"
Matt swung his legs over the side of the bed, the blood draining from his face. His son. Seven years old. Gone from the apartment he'd slept in every night. He grabbed his coat, yanked on sneakers, and fumbled for his keys.
"I'm coming over right now," he said, voice tight. "I'll call the police. Stay there. Don't—don't touch anything."
"Okay... but Matt... it's not just Liam," she whispered, as if saying it aloud made it more real. "I heard... other kids too. From the next street over. They're gone. And no one knows how."
Matt froze, the morning light spilling over his bare apartment floor. He had thought, for a moment, that this was a personal disaster, a one-time tragedy. But now... the threads began to stretch outward, knotting into a pattern he couldn't yet see.
He ran to his car, mind racing. He replayed every detail of last night. Did Liam say anything unusual? Anything at all? No. Just the soft laughter over bedtime stories, the gentle hum of Marissa reading in the living room. Everything normal. Too normal.
The streets were waking up around him. People jogging, cars moving, neighbors chatting. Ordinary. But the panic gnawed at Matt. He couldn't reconcile the ordinary with what Marissa had told him.
He dialed 911 as he drove, voice shaking. "My son... he's missing. Seven years old. Lives with my ex-wife. She called... he's gone."
The dispatcher asked questions, recorded facts, stayed calm. Matt's chest tightened as he gave the address, aware that every second mattered.
And as he pulled up in front of Marissa's apartment building, he saw her standing outside, phone pressed to her ear, eyes wide and unblinking. Liam's bike leaned against the railing, the small helmet still on the porch step. The world seemed suspended in silence, waiting, watching.
Matt swallowed hard. Something was happening—something that didn't make sense, something that went beyond a missing child. And somehow, he had to find out what it was before it was too late.

Chapter 2 – Josh – March 12th, 10:00 AM

Josh slipped into the newsroom, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. The faint smell of coffee and printer ink mingled with the hum of activity. The day had only just begun, but already the chaos of the early morning had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He dropped his backpack on the desk and opened his laptop. Reports of missing children had been trickling in since dawn—scattered, seemingly isolated: a boy in Brooklyn, a toddler in Queens, a girl in Manhattan. At first glance, it looked random, but Josh's instincts told him otherwise.
He picked up the phone and dialed a parent in Queens, a woman whose voice trembled with confusion. "She... she was asleep last night," she said. "I went in to check... and she was gone. I don't understand. There's no way she could have left the apartment..."
Josh scribbled notes, his fingers shaking slightly. He made another call, another story, another confused parent. A pattern was beginning to form: children vanishing from locked rooms, parents unable to explain what had happened, no witnesses, no evidence.
He leaned back in his chair and scanned social media feeds. There were rumors, unverified reports, and wild theories—stranger things than he could imagine—but the truth was still murky. The disappearances didn't fit any conventional explanation. And the authorities seemed overwhelmed, dismissive, or simply unable to grasp what was happening.
His editor leaned over, brow furrowed. "Josh, what are you thinking? This looks... messy."
"Messy?" Josh echoed, eyes narrowed. "It's more than messy. It's coordinated, in ways no one can see yet. And if we don't catch the thread, it's going to keep spreading."
A ping from his laptop made him jump. Another report: a child gone from another borough. Overnight. Apartment locked. No witnesses. His stomach churned.
He grabbed a notepad and began sketching a map, marking the locations. The clusters weren't dense, but the pattern was there. Someone—or something—was choosing carefully. Josh's pulse quickened as he realized this wasn't random. It was methodical. And it was only just beginning.
The newsroom buzzed around him, reporters typing and phones ringing. Josh felt detached, as if he were watching the city from a distance. Somewhere in those streets, children were disappearing, and no one had a clue why.
He leaned back, taking a deep breath. The quiet before the storm. And he knew it.