The investigation had started again quietly,whispers in the locker room, murmurs outside the coach's office but by the end of the week, it had spread like oil across the campus.
Everyone was talking.
Emily's disappearance wasn't just a story anymore. It was an open wound.
Detectives had come twice that week, first to the field, then to the dorms. They taped off the dugout, set up bright work lamps, and began digging near the old drainage pipe. Word was they'd found something, though no one knew what.
Liam tried not to watch the news updates, but every time the footage came on floodlights glaring over mud and fog he felt the same shiver crawl up his spine. The hum always returned with it, faint at first, then steady.
Noah noticed.
He'd been watching Liam more closely now, as if waiting for him to crack. Their apartment felt smaller each night the air thick with the tension neither of them mentioned.
That morning,Noah had woken up before Liam.Liam woke to voices outside their door. Two officers. He heard his name.
He lay still, eyes open, pulse racing.
Afterwards,he sat up fast, heart pounding.
"checking the rooms on this floor," a woman's voice said. "He's on the list."
Noah appeared in the doorway , already dressed, phone in hand. "They're doing room checks again," he said quietly. "Looking for anything that belonged to Emily."
Liam froze halfway through buttoning his shirt. "Why here?"
Noah didn't answer.
A knock followed almost immediately. Sharp. Professional.
Liam opened the door to find Detective Greene again,dressed in the same black coat as before.Flanked by another officer, who is holding a digital tablet. She gave him that same calm, unreadable stare she wore the first time they met."Mr. Carter, she said eventually.We'll try not to take much of your time."
He nodded,stepped aside. The hum beneath the floor seemed to grow louder, as though the building itself were reacting to her presence.
Greene gaze drifted across the living room, to the floorboards the ones Liam had pried open nights before.
Every motion was measured. Her gaze skimmed over the cluttered coffee table, the uneven light from the desk lamp, the faint patch of discoloration near the vent.
Her partner crouched, running a small flashlight along the seams.
"Renovation work?" she asked lightly.
Liam swallowed. "Loose boards."
She nodded, jotting something down. Then, as her partner moved toward the vent, Liam's stomach twisted. He could still see where the silver liquid had dripped, even though he'd scrubbed until his hands bled.
The detective crouched near the wall, brushing a fingertip across the dust. She paused. Looked at him. "You said you were last at the field about a week ago, right?"
He nodded.
"Interesting," she said. "Because we found tire tracks out there from last night."
Liam's heart stopped.
Greene stood, slipping a small evidence bag from her coat pocket. Inside was a glass fragment curved, thin, glinting faintly like mercury. "Recognize this?"
He shook his head too quickly. "No."
"It was found near the dugout. Looked like it came from a vial."
Her eyes met his. "You sure you've never seen one like it?"
Noah stepped forward before Liam could speak. "Detective, he's been dealing with a lot. Maybe you should let him"
Mind if we look around your corner as well?"
Noah kept calm for a second, " why my corner?"
"Routine procedure," Greene said. "We're looking for any belongings connected to Ms. Emily."
Her tone was professional, but her eyes flicked between them, measuring their silence.
After a few tense minutes, she finally snapped her notebook shut. "Alright. That'll be all for now."
Greene raised a hand, silencing him. "We'll be in touch."
When they left, Liam collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.
Noah hovered near the doorway, voice low. "What aren't you telling me?"
Liam didn't answer. The hum was vibrating through the furniture now, up through his spine.
"They're going to find out," Noah said. "Whatever you're hiding, it's going to come out."
Liam looked up slowly. "You think I did something?"
Noah's mouth opened then closed again. "I don't know what to think anymore."
The silence stretched, brittle as glass.
Then, from the kitchen, a faint drip broke it.
Liam turned his head. The faucet was off, but a single droplet of silvery liquid hung from the edge of the sink, trembling.
He stood too quickly, chair scraping against the floor. "No."
Noah frowned. "What?"
Liam backed away, shaking his head. "It's starting again."
Before Noah could respond, a vibration rippled through the floor. The hum roared up through the walls, rattling the plates in the cabinet, humming through the vents.
And beneath it all, another sound soft, mechanical the faint click of a camera shutter.
Noah ran to the window, jerking the blinds open. Nothing. Just fog curling along the street.
Liam whispered, "They were here again "
"No one's there, Liam!" Noah snapped. "You're scaring me."
But Liam wasn't listening. He was staring at the floorboards where the hum was strongest, whispering to himself like a prayer.
"They're watching," he said. "And they know what we did."
Noah froze. "We? What are you talking about?"
Liam blinked. The words echoed back at him, strange, foreign. He didn't even remember saying them.
The hum stopped.
And from outside the window faint, distorted by fog came a voice neither of them could place.
It whispered, "Check the field again."
Then silence. It said last long. Noah couldn't take it anymore, he had to say something to Liam.
"What is wrong with you man"? I honestly do not understand you anymore .
"You've been sleepwalking, muttering in your sleep," Noah said. "You keep washing your hands until they bleed, you unplug the vents every night. Talk to me, what's the problem?
Liam wanted to speak, but the words were too heavy to come out of his mouth. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I think it's just stres."