The Last Message

Chapter 2: The Night She Disappeared

The rain had been the most difficult part.

Mira recalled it in vivid, fragmented memories—the wind howling through the gaps in the old house, the streetlights flickering like fading stars. She remembered standing in the doorway, watching as Lina’s figure vanished into the tempest.

"You’re just being paranoid!" Lina had yelled, her voice strained.

"I’m being cautious!" Mira had retorted.

A pointless argument. The type they had experienced countless times before.

But this time, Lina never returned.

Present Day

The letter felt like a flame in Mira’s pocket as she got into her car.

She lingered for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly, the engine silent. The detective’s number was already displayed on her phone. Over the years, she had called him numerous times, always hoping for a new lead or a glimmer of evidence. He had stopped responding after the fifth year.

But this time was different.

This was evidence.

She pressed call.

It rang three times before a gruff voice responded. "Hargrove."

"Detective—it’s Mira Sorenson."

There was a pause, followed by a sigh. "Great. You’re still at this?"

"I discovered something."

The Detective’s Residence

Hargrove’s home reeked of old coffee and gun oil. Although he had retired six years ago, remnants of his former career lingered—case files piled on the kitchen table, a police scanner softly buzzing in the background.

He didn’t invite her to sit.

Mira took the letter from her pocket and slid it across the table.

Hargrove’s face remained impassive as he read it. After finishing, he folded it neatly and pushed it back toward her. "So?"

"So?" Mira’s voice trembled. "She left this. She planned it. That changes everything!"

"Does it?" He rubbed his temple. "Listen, kid, I told you back then—no body, no signs of struggle, no ransom note. Just a girl who bought a one-way ticket out of town."

Mira became completely still. "What ticket are you referring to?"

Hargrove halted in his tracks, then quietly cursed under his breath. "You never looked at the file, did you?"

The File

The folder was slim, its edges frayed.

Within it, a solitary receipt caught her attention among the few notes—a Greyhound ticket, bought on the day Lina disappeared.

Destination: Blackwater Cove.

Mira's breath hitched.

That name was familiar to her.

Flashback:

Lina, at sixteen, lay on her bed with a worn paperback. "It says there's a town up north where the water turns black at night. Some claim it's due to pollution, while others believe it's something… older."

Mira had scoffed. "So now you believe in ghost towns?"

Lina had simply smiled. "I believe in secrets."

The Drive Home

Rain drummed against the windshield.

Mira remained in her parked car, fixated on the receipt. Blackwater Cove. A location Lina had mentioned only once, a casual remark from years past.

Now, it was her sole lead.

Her phone vibrated—a text from the realtor. "Just confirming the cleaners for Friday!"

Mira chose not to respond.

Instead, she opened a new browser tab and typed:

"Blackwater Cove, Maine. Population: 387."

The first image that appeared was of a lighthouse, crumbling at the edge of a cliff.

For the first time in eleven years, Mira finally had a destination.

Next Chapter Preview:

Mira's arrival at Blackwater Cove reveals an unexpected reality. The residents recall Lina, yet they are reluctant to engage in conversation. Additionally, the lighthouse on the outskirts of the town conceals more than mere specters.