I stepped inside.
That’s when I heard it.
A sharp creak beneath my foot.
The house hadn’t been renovated in a long time, but the creak still came from one specific spot.
I stepped back and pressed my foot down again.
Same sound.
I looked down and saw that one of the floorboards seemed loose.
I knelt and lifted the board slightly, and saw a hidden space.
My heart started beating faster.
That’s when I heard it.
Advertisement
Inside, wrapped in a piece of faded fabric, was a small notebook with a cheap metal lock.
I pulled it out and grabbed a pair of scissors to pry the lock open.
Inside was Adele’s handwriting. I knew it instantly! It appeared to be a diary she’d kept.
The first few pages were exactly what you’d expect from a teenage girl about her daily life: complaints about homework, little notes about friends, and arguments with Mom.
Then my hands started shaking when I reached the last pages.
Inside was Adele’s handwriting.
Advertisement
The tone shifted.
The entries got shorter, tighter, and more careful.
She’d started writing about walking somewhere before school.
The same place, repeatedly.
A bus stop on the edge of town.
I frowned.
Adele also wrote about someone she’d been meeting there.
The tone shifted.
Advertisement
She never used the person’s name, just small hints.
“She listens.”
“She doesn’t rush me like everyone else.”
“She says I have options.”
I felt a chill crawl up my arms.
Adele wasn’t just writing about casual conversations.
She had been planning something.
Then I came across what she had written the night before she disappeared.
“I packed a small bag, but I hid it. I don’t know if I’ll actually use it. I keep thinking about what he said. I wish I hadn’t heard it.”
My chest tightened.
She never used the person’s name.
Advertisement
My heart started pounding hard as I read what had happened on that fateful morning.
The handwriting was messier, as if she’d been in a hurry.
“I’m going back there before school. I need to decide. She said she could help me hide, just for a little while. I don’t think I can stay here if it’s true.”
I swallowed hard.
The final line was underlined twice.
“If I don’t go today, I never will.”
I realized in that moment that I had no idea what was happening in my sister’s life.
I need to decide.
Advertisement
I didn’t even remember grabbing my jacket.
One second, I was in Adele’s room; the next, I was out the door, keys in my hand, my mind racing.
***
I arrived at the bus stop.
It was still there, but barely used.
I stepped out of my car.
For a moment, I just stood there, trying to imagine her.
Fourteen years old. Alone. Standing right where I was.
What were you thinking, Adele?
What were you about to do?
It was still there, but barely used.
Advertisement
A small grocery store sat across the road. It looked old enough to have been there back then.
It was open 24 hours, so I walked inside.
An older man stood behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper. He looked up as I approached.
“How can I help you?”
I hesitated for a second, then said, “I’m looking for information about someone who frequented this area. A long time ago.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“My sister,” I added. “She used to wait at that bus stop. Early mornings. This was… 35 years ago.”
“How can I help you?”
Advertisement
The man seemed deep in thought, then asked, “A teenage girl? Dark hair? School bag?”
My breath caught.
“Yes!”
“I remember her. She used to come by. Didn’t say much.”
Everything inside me went still.
“Was she alone?”
“Not always. There was a woman,” he said. “Used to pull up in an old car. They’d talk for a bit. Then sometimes your sister would leave with her.”
My hands tightened at my sides.
“I remember her.”
Advertisement
“Do you know the woman?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know her name. But I remember where she worked. Across town. A youth center. A place for kids who needed… somewhere else to be.”
He gave me the name of the center. I quickly thanked him and walked out, back toward my car.
***
The drive across town felt too long.
The youth center stood on a quiet street, plain and unremarkable. If I hadn’t known what I was looking for, I would’ve driven right past it.
“Do you know the woman?”
Advertisement
I parked, then quickly exited the car.
***
Inside, the building was warm. Voices echoed faintly somewhere down the hall. A woman sat at the front desk, sorting papers.
She looked up. “Hello, how can I help?”
“I’m looking for someone who worked here… a long time ago,” I said. “Early 90s.”
She frowned. “Let me get someone who might be able to help.”
Inside, the building was warm.
Advertisement
A minute later, she returned with an older woman with gray hair.
“What’s your sister’s name?” the older woman asked.
“Adele.”
She didn’t blink.
“I remember her. She came with me here a few mornings,” the woman said. “Before school. She didn’t stay long. Just talked.”
“About what?”
The woman studied me.
“This might be hard for you to hear. But you came here seeking answers. Adele talked about leaving home.”
The words landed heavily.
“She didn’t stay long.”
Advertisement
“She didn’t feel like she belonged there anymore,” the older woman continued. “At first, I thought it was just teenage frustration. But then she told me what she’d overheard.”
My mind flicked to Adele’s diary and her entry about wishing she hadn’t heard something.
“She heard your parents arguing,” the woman said. “Your father told your mother he was tired of raising her because she wasn’t his child and was adopted.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak.
“She told me what she’d overheard.”
Leave a Comment