“Uncle David…” Ethan whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This belongs to Lily.”
David blinked in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Lily disappeared fourteen years ago.”
Fourteen years.
Ethan felt his knees weaken. “Mom taught her those flowers. I remember. I’ve seen her wear this.”
David took the fabric, examining it closely. It was old, yellowed slightly with time—but carefully preserved.
Not forgotten.
Hidden.
Deliberately.
“We’re calling the police,” David said, his voice suddenly sharp. “Right now.”
The officers arrived within twenty minutes, though for Ethan it felt like hours.
No one touched the garment again. It lay carefully spread on the dresser, an impossible piece of evidence in a house that still smelled of decay and memory.
Ethan’s mother hadn’t been called yet.
Maybe no one knew how.
How do you tell a woman that her missing daughter’s underwear was found hidden under her own father’s bed?
Detective Rachel Morgan took the lead. She studied the garment without touching it, then looked directly at Ethan.
“Are you absolutely sure this was your sister’s?”
Ethan swallowed. “Yes. I’d recognize that stitching anywhere. She was fifteen when she disappeared.”