A Nightmare?

Once they put a few blocks between themselves and the neighborhood, Michael grips the steering wheel tight, white-knuckled. “What was that? What the fuck was that back there?!”
“Shut up,” Adam growls, leaning his head back against the seat. “Next time Paul steps up to me like that, I’m making him swallow his teeth.”
Michael lets out a long, exhausted sigh, shaking his head. “So what do you think? Is Paul our guy? Do we suspect him?”
Adam stares blankly out at the rain-slicked road ahead, his smirk completely gone. “I don’t know… but he’s definitely hiding something. Just not his daughter.”
Michael checks his watch and shifts the car into park. “I’ve got another contract I have to take care of out of town. For now… you’re on your own.”
Adam rolls his eyes, leaning back against the headrest. “Fucking A.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Michael warns, giving him a hard look before adding, “Oh, and those bloody clothes? Mrs. Carter already positively identified them. I sent the samples off to forensically test for DNA, but it’s going to take some time. So don’t worry about that part either.”
A short while later, Adam stands alone in his dimly lit office. Smoke drifts from his cigarette as he stares blankly at the board, searching for the missing thread in Sofia Carter’s life.
Unplugging her phone from the wall charger, he slips the freshly powered device into his coat pocket. He steps out into the hallway, locks the office door behind him, and heads down to the BMW.
A short drive later, the BMW glides up the gravel driveway of a cozy, two-story wooden house with a sprawling front lawn. Adam parks right in front of the porch and turns off the ignition.
The moment he swings the driver’s door open, a massive German Shepherd bounds off the porch and charges toward him. The dog immediately buries its snout into Adam’s pant legs, its tail wagging furiously with pure excitement.
Adam lets out a genuine laugh, dropping to one knee. “Caesar… you bastard. Good boy.” He buries his hands in the dog’s thick coat, giving him a thorough scratching behind the ears.
As he looks up, a woman steps out onto the porch. Her light blonde hair is pinned up in a bun, and she wears a long skirt paired with a warm jacket against the damp air. A soft, welcoming smile brightens her face.
“Love,” Grace says softly, her eyes warming as she watches him with the dog. “You finally showed up. Welcome home.”
Deep in the woods, the day is dull, gloomy, and choked with fog. A narrow dirt trail cuts through the dense trees, leading toward a distorted, distant view of a murky pond. Standing at the water’s edge is a girl with long, dark red hair flowing freely over her shoulders and face. She wears a simple dress, her back turned to the trail, her legs submerged knee-deep in the cold water. The wet fabric clings to her legs.
She begins to turn around—
Adam jolts awake with a harsh gasp, sweat glistening on his forehead.
Chest heaving, he sits up and looks around the dimly lit room. Beside him, Grace is still sound asleep, her breathing slow and steady. Caesar is curled up in a warm blanket at the foot of the bed. As Adam moves, the dog’s ears perk up and he raises his head.
Adam presses a single finger to his lips. Shh.
Understanding the gesture, Caesar rests his snout back down on his paws.
Adam slides quietly out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floorboards. He slips out of the bedroom, leaving the door cracked. Passing through the quiet hallway, the hands of the wall clock read 4:43 AM.
Adam moves quietly through the dark house, making his way into his home study—a room lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a heavy wooden desk at its center.
He reaches over and clicks on a single desk lamp, casting a warm pool of light over the dark wood while the rest of the room remains shrouded in shadows.
Sliding into his chair, he sparks his lighter, lights a cigarette, and takes a slow, deep drag. Smoke curls upward toward the ceiling. He reaches down, slides open the top desk drawer, and pulls out Sofia’s phone.
Checking the side tray, he notes the SIM card has already been removed. He presses the power button, watching the screen glow to life against the dark.
The screen boots up, but instead of the home display, a prompt appears: Enter 8-Digit Startup Passcode.
Adam stares blankly at the glowing numbers for a few long seconds, the cigarette trailing smoke between his fingers as his mind begins to work through the possibilities.
A memory flashes behind his eyes—yesterday on the porch, looking past Michael at those brass numbers mounted beside the front door. 84.
Then he remembers her high school ID pinned to the board in his office. Her date of birth: June 17, 2003.
He remembers the photo on the Carter’s wall — Mrs. Carter, young, cradling a newborn, the same wallpaper behind her as the wall it hung on. Sofia wasn’t born in a hospital. She was born right there, in that house.
Adam lets out a soft sigh, tapping the screen with his index finger. He punches in the digits: 84 - 06 - 17 - 03.
A quiet chime sounds as the lock screen vanishes, opening straight to her home display. First try.
He shakes his head, letting out a dry, raspy chuckle. “Kids…”
His thumb hovers over her gallery and messaging apps as the smoke from his cigarette drifts past his eyes. “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding, Sofia.”