Sarah woke up with her heart pounding, but for once it wasn't from fear. She had dreamt of her father—returning home, smiling, everything back to the way it used to be. The dream filled her with hope, and she carried that warmth with her as she stepped into the bathroom, showered, and got ready for the day.
It was Saturday. No school. No rushing. She already had a plan written out—time with her mom, maybe a coffee date, maybe a little stroll through town. Just the two of them. For the first time in weeks, Sarah felt a spark of excitement.
Her mother's voice called from downstairs. "Breakfast!"
Sarah dashed down, eager and full of anticipation. But what she saw caught her off guard. Her mom was already dressed, standing tall and ready to leave. For a moment, Sarah thought maybe her mom had woken early to prepare something special.
"Mom… why are you up so early?" she asked carefully. She hadn't told her mom about her surprise plans—she wanted it to be a gift, a day to heal together.
Her mother offered a faint smile but shook her head. "I have to go to the police station. See if there's any news about your father. After that, I'll stop by some local sites and put up flyers. Whether people have seen you father before he disappeared."
Sarah's heart dropped. She wanted to protest, to beg her mother to stay, but she didn't want to dim her fragile determination. So she just whispered, "Oh… I was hoping we could spend today together."
"Maybe later," her mom said softly. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Stay home. Keep an eye out… in case anything strange happens."
The word strange hung in the air. Sarah blinked at her as if her mother had sprouted two heads. "Strange? What do you mean?"
Her mother didn't answer. She simply grabbed her bag and left, leaving Sarah with an uneasy silence.
After breakfast and some tidying up, Sarah couldn't shake her restlessness. She decided to step out and grab coffee, hoping to soothe her mood.
At the café counter, just as she reached for her wallet, a hand slid past her shoulder. "I'll pay for that," a familiar voice said.
Sarah spun around. "Adrian?"
He smirked. "What? Surprised?"
"I can pay for my own drink," she snapped, thrusting her money forward.
Adrian, unfazed, handed his cash to the barista anyway. "She's just mad at me," he told the cashier with a wink before steering Sarah aside.
"Why are you following me? Are you a stalker now?" she blurted out.
"Maybe I am." He grinned, then softened his tone. "Relax, I was just crossing the street and saw you come in. You live around here?"
Sarah hesitated, torn between honesty and distance. She ended up muttering something vague, but Adrian's persistence broke through her guard. "You look lonely. Maybe I should stick around." looking at her with a cute expression
She rolled her eyes and said. "You don't look cute with those puppy eyes, you know."
They both laughed, and for the first time, the walls between them cracked. Over steaming coffee, they traded stories. Adrian told her about losing his mother when he was ten. Sarah spoke about the bullying she endured at school and how this town was supposed to be her fresh start. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him about her missing father or her mother's strange behavior. Some truths felt too heavy.
By the time they parted ways, Sarah found herself smiling. "Goodbye, Adrian."
He lingered for a moment, as though reluctant, then waved. "See you around."
Inside, the house was still. Her mother hadn't returned. Sarah called, relief filling her when the line connected—until her mother's voice cut through, weary and distant.
"I won't be coming home tonight."
"What? But you were just putting up flyers—"
"I have things to do, Sarah. We'll talk later." The call ended before Sarah could argue.
Alone again, Sarah's thoughts pulled her toward the field. She slipped out, walking to the Scarecrow standing tall against the twilight.
"I don't understand Mom," she whispered. "She's been acting so strange… and I just wish Dad would come home. I wish things were normal again."
The Scarecrow loomed silently, its stitched grin unchanging. Yet, as Sarah poured her heart out, she felt—deep in her chest—that it was listening. That it understood.
She didn't mention Adrian. She wasn't sure why. Maybe she wanted to keep him separate, untouched by whatever darkness surrounded her home.
At last, she stood, brushing the dirt from her hands. "Goodnight."
She waved to the Scarecrow and walked back inside. But as she closed the door behind her, she couldn't shake the feeling that its smile had stretched… just a little wider.
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