On the night the storm rolled in, Mariam Young and her dog, Lilly, stepped into the darkness and never returned. No one saw them leave. No one heard a struggle. The rain wiped away footprints, and by morning, it was as if she had never existed. In a town where people spoke in half-truths and silences carried more weight than words, her disappearance was quickly reduced to a tragic mystery-one that was easier to forget than to solve. But someone saw something. The whispers started almost immediately-muted conversations behind closed doors, sideways glances at the mention of her name, nervous shifts in tone when questions were asked. The town had lost people before, but this was different. Mariam had always been the kind of person who asked the wrong questions, who dug too deep, who didn't know when to stop looking. And now, she was gone. For months, the official investigation yielded nothing. No body. No evidence. Just theories. Some said she ran away. Others claimed she drowned in the river during the storm. A few whispered about something more sinister, but those voices never spoke too loudly. Because in this town, people knew when to stay quiet. But silence wasn't enough to bury the truth. As the search for answers begins, it becomes clear that the official story doesn't hold up. A crucial detail in the police report was ignored. A key witness vanishes before they can speak. The last phone call Mariam made-a call never logged in the investigation-leads to someone who shouldn't exist, someone who knows more than they're willing to say. Every discovery tightens the web of secrets surrounding her disappearance. The deeper the investigation goes, the more the town itself seems to resist, like a living thing trying to shake off anyone who digs too deep. There's something buried here-something people are willing to kill to protect. And then the warnings start. Phone calls in the dead of night, the sound of breathing on the other end. Notes slipped under do
