The dump stretched endlessly—smoke, garbage, decay.
“There.”
The smell hit hard, but Ethan didn’t stop. Marcus guided him carefully.
Then—a faint cry.
Ethan’s heart pounded.
“Wait,” Marcus whispered. “They’re scared of adults.”
They approached slowly.
“Lily… Chloe… it’s me,” Marcus called gently.
Two small faces peeked out from beneath a tarp—dirty, thin, identical.
Alive.
Ethan dropped to his knees. “Lily… Chloe…”
They didn’t come closer. They hid behind Marcus.
“Not yet,” Marcus said quietly.
“I’m their father…” Ethan whispered.
“Right now… they trust me,” Marcus replied.
Ethan didn’t move. He just cried silently, making himself a promise—he would save them, and he would uncover everything.
As night approached, Marcus insisted they leave. “It’s dangerous.”
Ethan knelt again. “I’ll come back. I promise. I won’t force anything.”
That night, he reviewed the case file for the first time with clarity. Errors. Lies. A dead doctor. Missing records.
Then a message: Stop digging.
He didn’t feel fear. Only certainty.
The next morning, he returned.
But the tarp was disturbed. The girls were gone.
Footprints. Adult boot marks.
“They took them,” Marcus whispered.