Mrs. Parker had been cleaning the breakfast dishes when she glanced at the calendar hanging on the fridge. The date caught her eye: Thursday.
Half a week already since Zoe had left for the "school camp."
She smiled at the thought Zoe had sounded so excited when she had left, rattling off a list of things she was going to do. Kayaking, hiking, "team-building exercises" she pretended to dread but secretly liked. Still, Mrs. Parker had expected a text or a short call by now. Even at camp, the kids usually got some phone time.
She reached for her cellphone and dialed the school's main office.
"Good morning, Willow Creek High School," a woman answered cheerfully. "This is Carol, how may I help you?"
"Yes, hi, this is Maria Parker, Zoe's mother. I just wanted to check in, you know, see how the camp's going. Do you have a number for the counselors?"
There was a short pause. "Camp?"
"Yes, the one the seventh grade went on this week. Out on…" Mrs. Parker hesitated, realizing she didn't know the exact location. "The inter school camp of course? The one they took the ferry to?"
Another pause, longer this time. "Mrs. Parker, I'm not sure what you're referring to... there's no camp this week."
Mrs. Parker frowned, switching the phone to her other ear. "What do you mean there's no camp? The bus picked them up, all the kids in Zoe's group went."
"I think you may have some wrong information none of our seventh grade classes are off-campus right now."
The unease started small, a knot just behind Mrs. Parker's ribs. "Can you transfer me to Principal Harris, please?"
"Of course, ma'am. One moment."
The line clicked, a hold tone played, and thirty seconds later, a deep, measured voice came on.
"Mrs. Parker? This is Daniel Harris. I understand you have a question about a trip?"
"Yes," she said, her voice sharper now. "Zoe told me she and her friends were going on a camp trip. They left with a bus which picked them up near the school..."
"I'm… sorry, but there is no school-sponsored camp this week," Harris said carefully. "If Zoe is away, it's not through the school."
Mrs. Parker's hand tightened on the phone. "You don't understand, she said the school organized it. There were other kids from her class, from her grade.."
"Names?" Harris asked.
Mrs. Parker rattled off what she remembered: Mira, Ash, Jayden, Leo… and then the older girl Zoe had mentioned once, Windy, plus "her cheerleader friends."
Harris was silent for a long time. "Mrs. Parker… every single one of those students has been marked absent since Monday. No notes from parents... No official trip... They are not in school, and they have not been excused."
The knot in her chest turned into a cold, hollow pit.
"Check your records again," she said, even though she could hear in his tone there was nothing to find.
---
By noon, the phone tree was in full swing.
Mrs. Rowe, Mira's mother, was the first to call back. "I thought she was with the school too. She said they had to be up early for the swim"
"swim?" Mrs. Parker echoed.
"Yes... She packed her swimsuit she Said they were going to have swimming classes too, I didn't ask too much questions which I thought you knew."
Mr. Cortez, leo's father, joined the call after Mrs. Parker conference dialed him. His voice was already tight. "Jayden told me the same thing, Even had a 'permission slip.' It looked legit. School letterhead, emergency contacts, everything."
"That's impossible," Mrs. Parker said. "The principal said there was no trip."
"Then where the hell are our kids?"
The line went quiet for a moment as they all breathed together, the same sick understanding dawning.
Mrs. Hale, jaydens's mom, had been trying to reach her son's phone since Monday. "Straight to voicemail every time," she said. "I thought maybe the island didn't have reception."
"And Windy?" Mrs. Parker asked.
"She told us it was for cheerleader training," Mr. Carter said grimly. "Apparently she and the others were invited to 'help with the camp activities.' My wife even bought her a new uniform for it."
---
By one o'clock, six households knew the same thing: every story matched, every excuse lined up, and all of it was a lie.
It wasn't just the missing kids it was the cover. Whoever had lured them away had been thorough. Permission slips, schedules, even a fake bus pickup. Enough to fool all of them.
At 1:15, Mrs. Parker was sitting in her car in the school parking lot, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel, waiting for Principal Harris to come back from lunch. When he did, she and the other parents crowded into his office.
"I've checked our files again," Harris told them, sliding a folder across his desk. "No authorized trip. No swimming bookings. No camp reservations. This " He tapped the folder. " does not exist in any school record."
Mrs. Ramirez leaned forward. "Then how did they get the bus?"
Harris shook his head. "If it was a school bus, I don't know. But…" He hesitated. "We don't have any buses scheduled for camp pickups. And our security cameras at the front gate were offline that morning for maintenance."
"Offline?" Mr. Cortez said sharply. "For how long?"
"All weekend."
Mr. Carter's face went pale. "You think someone planned this."
---
By three o'clock, the police were involved. Two officers came to the school to take statements from the parents. They asked the same questions over and over: When did you last see them? Did they mention where they were going? Did they say who was in charge?
Mrs. Parker noticed something the officers kept jotting notes when they heard " school camp" or "swimming."
"Do you think they're still on the mainland?" she asked one of them.
The officer didn't answer directly. "We'll be checking bus records next."
---
That evening, the parents gathered in the school library, waiting for updates. A few brought stacks of printed photos to give to the police. The air was heavy with coffee and tension.
"They're together," Mrs. Rowe kept saying. "Whatever happened, they're together. That's good."
"Unless whoever took them wants them together," Mr. Hale muttered.
Mrs. Parker sat with her phone on the table in front of her, watching the screen for any sign, a text, a call, anything. It stayed dark.
By seven, a detective arrived a tall man in a gray suit who introduced himself as Detective Luke.
"We've spoken with the bus companies," he said, standing at the front of the room. "None report taking a group of nine minors to any registered destination in the last week. We're looking into private charters and unlisted stops."
"Unlisted?" Mrs. Carter repeated.
"Small craft that operate off the books," Luke said. "We're also checking local bus stops "
Mrs. Ramirez ash's mom stood. "Detective, please these are children, they've been gone for four days. Whoever has them has had four days to..."
"We're moving quickly," Luke cut in gently. "But I'll be honest, if this is an unregistered location, we may be dealing with something unusual."
---
Later that night, Mrs. Ramirez sat in her kitchen, staring at the last text ash had sent her: Bus is here! Love you, see you in a week!
She reread it over and over until the letters blurred.
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