Morning in Ebonridge never really felt like morning. The sky stayed gray most days, as if the sun had long ago given up trying to shine on the city. People hurried along the sidewalks with their heads down, coats pulled tight, each person busy with their own worries.
Bladehart stood across the street from a small convenience store, leaning casually against a wall. To anyone passing by, he looked like just another quiet teenager waiting for someone. But his eyes moved constantly, observing everything.
Inside the store, a television hung from the corner of the ceiling. The volume was low, but the news anchor's voice carried through the open door.
"Another teenager has been reported missing late last night. Authorities say sixteen-year-old Daniel Reeves was last seen near Hollow Street. Police are asking anyone with information to come forward."
Bladehart's jaw tightened.
That made four this month.
Too many to be coincidence.
He pushed himself off the wall and crossed the street, stepping inside the store. The cashier barely looked up. Bladehart grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, mainly so he could stand there and watch the television without drawing attention.
The news anchor continued.
"Residents are becoming increasingly concerned as disappearances appear to be centered around the eastern district."
Hollow Street again.
Bladehart paid for the water and stepped outside, unscrewing the cap slowly. His mind was already moving ahead.
Four missing teenagers. Same area. Same time of night.
Someone was hunting.
"Interesting choice of place to watch the news."
The voice came from behind him.
Bladehart turned slightly.
A girl stood a few steps away, holding a backpack over one shoulder. She looked about his age. Dark curly hair tied loosely back, eyes sharp and curious like she was always thinking three steps ahead.
She nodded toward the store.
"You were standing there for almost ten minutes," she said. "People who actually want snacks don't stare at the TV that long."
Bladehart studied her for a moment.
"Maybe I like the news."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Sure you do."
There was something confident about the way she spoke. Not nervous. Not afraid.
Just observant.
Bladehart started to walk away.
"Wait," she called.
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"You're interested in the disappearances too, aren't you?" she said.
Now he looked back.
"What makes you think that?"
She shrugged.
"Because I am."
That caught his attention.
She stepped closer.
"My name's Aurora."
Bladehart said nothing.
She tilted her head.
"So… are you going to tell me your name, or do I keep calling you 'mysterious guy who watches crime reports for fun'?"
He hesitated for a moment.
"Bladehart."
Aurora smiled slightly.
"That sounds like a nickname."
"It is."
"Well," she said, "Bladehart, if you're looking into the missing kids, you should know something."
He crossed his arms.
"Go on."
Aurora reached into her backpack and pulled out a small tablet. She tapped the screen a few times and turned it toward him.
A map appeared.
Several red dots marked different locations across the eastern district.
"All the disappearances," she said. "Dates, times, locations."
Bladehart leaned closer.
Every single one was near Hollow Street.
"You made this?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Aurora looked at him like the answer should have been obvious.
"Because no one else is."
Bladehart studied the map carefully.
The dots weren't random.
They formed a rough circle.
At the center—
Hollow Street.
"See it?" Aurora said quietly.
"Yes."
"Something is happening there."
Bladehart straightened.
"Police will figure it out."
Aurora laughed.
"You actually believe that?"
"They have resources."
"And they also closed two of the cases already," she replied. "Marked them as 'runaways.'"
Bladehart frowned.
She lowered her voice slightly.
"Those kids didn't run away."
"You're sure?"
"I looked into their backgrounds," she said. "Families, school records, friends. None of them were planning to disappear."
Bladehart remained silent.
Aurora watched him closely.
"You already suspected something, didn't you?" she said.
Bladehart took a sip of water.
"Maybe."
Aurora smiled again, this time like someone who had just solved a puzzle.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You're not just some random guy watching the news."
Bladehart looked at her carefully.
"And what do you think I am?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know yet."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Cars passed. People walked by. The city moved on like nothing was wrong.
Finally Aurora broke the silence.
"Look," she said. "I've been investigating this for a week. But I can't exactly go walking through Hollow Street at night by myself."
Bladehart raised an eyebrow.
"And?"
"And you look like someone who already does that."
He didn't answer.
Aurora leaned slightly closer.
"Am I wrong?"
Bladehart looked down the street for a moment before responding.
"Hollow Street is dangerous."
"That's the point."
"You could get hurt."
"So could the missing kids," she replied.
Her tone wasn't dramatic.
Just honest.
Bladehart studied her again.
She didn't look scared.
Just determined.
"You're persistent," he said.
Aurora grinned.
"People say that."
Bladehart turned to leave again.
Aurora sighed.
"So that's it?"
He paused.
"You should stay out of this."
She crossed her arms.
"Not happening."
"Why?"
Aurora looked back toward the store where the news was still playing.
"Because someone needs to care enough to actually find them."
Bladehart felt something tighten slightly in his chest.
He had heard that kind of determination before.
Usually from people who ended up getting hurt.
"You don't understand what you're getting into," he said.
Aurora tilted her head.
"Then explain it."
Bladehart hesitated.
The whisper from the rooftop returned briefly in his memory.
Bladehart…
Something about the disappearances felt wrong.
Not just criminal.
Something darker.
"I can't," he said quietly.
Aurora sighed.
"You're really mysterious, you know that?"
"That's the idea."
She shook her head and started walking away.
"Well, mysterious guy, if you change your mind…"
She pointed toward the tablet.
"I'll still be investigating."
Bladehart watched her leave.
After a few seconds he called out,
"Aurora."
She turned.
"Yes?"
"Don't go near Hollow Street tonight."
She crossed her arms again.
"Why not?"
Bladehart thought for a moment.
"Because something there is watching."
Aurora blinked.
"Watching?"
"Yes."
She studied his expression carefully.
"You're serious."
"Yes."
For a moment, she seemed unsure.
Then she smiled again.
"Well," she said, "if something is watching… maybe we should watch it back."
Bladehart almost smiled.
Almost.
"You're stubborn."
"Very."
He sighed.
"Fine."
Aurora's eyes lit up.
"Fine what?"
"I'll meet you tonight."
Her grin widened.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Bladehart glanced down the street.
"Library. Eight o'clock."
Aurora nodded.
"Deal."
She turned and began walking away again.
Then she called over her shoulder,
"Oh, and Bladehart?"
"Yes?"
"You're definitely hiding something."
He watched her disappear into the crowd.
"Maybe," he muttered.
The wind moved quietly through the street.
And faintly—
Almost too faint to hear—
A whisper drifted past his ear again.
"…Bladehart…"
He turned sharply.
No one.
Just the city.
Watching.