Chapter One: "he's okay, mom"

The school bus rolls to a stop, emitting a puff of white smoke into the dreary air. As soon as the reflective double doors swing open I'm on my feet, worming my way down the aisle and shuffling down the three steps to the sidewalk.

The wind is merciless, exhaling a mist of cold rain into my eyes as I jog down the sidewalk and up the narrow path to the front door of my house. I grumble as a small orange blob wraps itself around my feet while I fumble for my keys.

"Cheeto, why are you out in the rain?" He meows in response as I finally manage to slide the key into the hole, pushing the door open. I sigh in relief as the heat from the house cages my body. As I kick off my shoes, Cheeto ditches me, escaping up the creaky stairs.

"Elliot, is that you?"

A voice comes from the kitchen, shortly followed by my mother. Her hair is pulled in a tight ponytail, fully showcasing her exhausted face. Her eyes are decorated with dark, seemingly permanent shadows, lips weighed down into a heavy frown that is seldom lifted.

I shoot her a drained smile. She tries her best to do the same, but the corners of her mouth barely move.

"Cheeto was hanging around outside again," I say, coming in for a hug. My frame completely envelopes her tiny one, but the comfort of our embrace is the same as it was when she used to be twice my size. When we separate she's shaking her head.

"That cat is going to be the death of me. I could've sworn I brought him inside an hour ago."

I laugh dryly, moving past her into the kitchen for a snack. "He likes to escape from the kitchen window," I call over my shoulder. I open a cabinet, feeling like I won the lottery when I spot two Rice Krispie Treats. The temptation is too hard to resist, so I rip the first pack open right there and sink my teeth into the gooey bar. The moaning that follows is inevitable.

Mom chuckles somewhere behind me. "You've always been obsessed with those. I should start buying more."

I roll my eyes. Speaking around the sugary goodness in my mouth, I say, "Oh, please. Dad's much worse than me. And don't get me started on Spencer. These were his solution to every problem..."

My voice trails off as I notice the sadness in Mom's coppery eyes. She looks away, hugging herself tightly as moisture collects in her eyes. I swallow, the heavy atmosphere slowly draining my appetite.

"I-I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Guilt eats away at me as I watch her try to catch her tears before they fall. A few slip pass her fingers, marking twisted paths down her cheeks. I pull her in for another hug without thinking, stuffing my unopened Rice Krispie Treat into my pocket. She clutches at my black jacket, shaking as she tries to swallow her sobs. I rub her back like she rubs mine when I'm hurting.

This is what we do. We lean on one another. We grieve together. Her presence somehow helps to ease the pain of my brother's absence.

"I just--I miss him so much, Elliot," she cries. I clutch her tighter as I try to fight the stinging in my eyes. It's my turn to be strong.

"I know."

"He wouldn't just run off, Elliot. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes."

She tilts her head, looking up at me. There's something haunting about seeing a parent cry. A parent always protects and shields their children. Seeing them hurt simply seems wrong, as if something like this shouldn't exist. The image shatters my heart further.

"What if he's hurt? What if he's crying for us, right now? What if somebody--what if he's already--"

I shush her, refusing to let her finish the thought. It's one that has crossed my mind too many times. I look her in her eyes and tell her what I've always told her. What I've always known deep inside.

"He's okay, mom. I know it. Maybe it's a twin thing, but I can feel him. And I know he's trying to make his way home. We just gotta be strong while we wait."

She smiles sadly. "I hope you're right, mijo."

Someone knocks at the door urgently, causing both me and Mom to jump. She immediately moves to answer it but I stop her. She looks up at me, confused, as I sit her down at the kitchen island.

"You just relax, okay? For the rest of the night. I'll handle everything."

"Oh, honey, that isn't necessary."

I shake my head, smiling slightly. "Let me spoil you, Mom. It's about time I repay you."

A slow smile spreads across her face, igniting a striking beauty that had been masked under stress, fatigue, and sadness. It brightens my mood as I turn to answer the door.

When I open it, I find two middle aged men, clad in black uniforms. On both of their tops, a shiny badge displaying 'Police' glints in the porch light. My breath catches at the realization and I look up into their faces, noting the fatigue I find there.

"Good evening, son. My name is Officer Davies and this is Officer Patterson. We're with the Crystal Lake Police Department," the one closest to the door says. He gives me a nod, a polite smile on his mouth.

"G-good evening," I stutter, struggling to focus. The police haven't come to see us in months. My heart leaps, daring to hope that there's been some progress in Spencer's case. That they had found him, or at least come closer to doing so.

My heart descends from my throat, settling back inside my rib cage and pounding against it. I open the door further and gesture into the living room. "Uh, please. Come in."

"Thank you," the officer named Davies says, stepping through the threshold. His partner follows and I close the door with a shaking hand. They stand awkwardly in the small room and I clear my throat.

"Feel free to sit down," I say. They do, taking a seat on the stained brown couch. I remain standing, my ignited nerves not allowing me to do much else. The other cop, Patterson, looks up at me, his expression turning stern.

"We've come with news," he says, taking off his cap. "I'm assuming that you are Elliot Hernández, Spencer's twin brother?"

I nod. "That would be me." My hands dig into my pockets, clenched into fists as I try to hide their shaking from the two men in front of me. Patterson's eyes follow the movement, before snapping back to my face. Something flashes in his gray orbs that I don't quite catch.

"Are your parents home, son?"

Right on cue, Mom steps out from the kitchen. She freezes once she spots the men sitting on the couch, her body suddenly beginning to convulse in tremors. I quickly take her hand, leading her to a large chair near the couch. She sits down distractedly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What's going on, is everything alright?" She rushes the words out, gripping the armrests for support. I look expectantly at Davies and Patterson, itching with anticipation. The two men exchange looks before Davies sighs.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Hernández."

My heart drops to my toes and I freeze, not even breathing. Mom's reaction is almost the opposite. She seems to deflate, sinking back into her chair and throwing her head into her hands. She's silent, but I know she's crying. My head pounds as I look back and forth between the officers.

"What do you mean?" I bite out, placing a hand on my mother's shoulder. Davies clears his throat to continue.

"Unfortunately, all possible leads have been exhausted. After all this time, we are no closer to discovering the whereabouts of Spencer than we were two years ago. It's a curious case, and I urge you to understand that we have done everything in our power. Unless any more investigative evidence presents itself, this is now a cold case."

His words aren't clear, almost as if I'm hearing them from underwater. My thoughts clog my ears like the water would, suffocating my lungs, blurring my focus. What he's saying can't be true. There is absolutely no way that there are no leads left. They have to find him. They have to.

It's mom's sudden, ear-splitting sob that breaks me from my trance. I growl, eyes honing in on Davies and glaring.

"What do you mean the leads are exhausted? How can there be nothing left?" I clench my fists at my sides, my anger bubbling inside my chest. "It's been two years. This whole time you've accomplished nothing?! Don't you know how to do your job?"

Mom sobers down enough to give me a pointed look through her pain. Her hand latches around my forearm. "Elliot," she hisses through her teeth. "Calm down." Tears stream endlessly down her cheeks.

"I can't."

I shake my head, unshed tears blurring my vision as I walk towards the front door and slip on my shoes. The door slams behind me as I escape into the rain, ducking my head so that the drops assault the back of my neck. I don't even bother putting up my hood as I run, sprinting into the darkening night.

At some point, as my legs pump over the grass of my neighbors' front yards and my arms swing at my sides, I come to a decision. The thought that hits me is so strong that it almost knocks me over. It creates a burning sensation in my head, trickling down my chest and settling somewhere in my stomach where it explodes. It gives me strength, it feels right.

And at this very moment I know.

I'm going to find my brother.