By Sunrise
Adam opens his eyes a few hours later, finding himself stretched out on the worn couch of a dimly lit room. A heavy wooden desk sits at the center of the space. His office.
He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his face, a figure standing in front of him comes into focus.
The man is in his late twenties, dressed in a sharp black suit, his shoulder-length dark hair falling around his face.
“Morning, boss,” Michael says.
Adam blinks through a sleepy daze, his voice thick. “Michael. Where are the files?”
Michael simply points toward the center of the room. A stack of documents sits on the desk.
Adam swings his legs over the side of the couch and stands. He pulls a cigarette from his pack, sparks his lighter, and takes a slow drag. “You said by sunrise,” he grunts, glancing down at his wrist watch. The hands read 8:27 AM.
“Yes,” Michael replies without missing a beat, “because that is when the sun rises.”
Adam walks over to the desk, exhaling gray smoke. “Okay, that’s enough out of you.”
Adam begins organizing the stack of paper, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips as smoke curls past his squinting eyes. “According to the police statement, her father was the last one to see her, right?”
“Yeah, he saw her leaving for her friend’s place.” Michael says, tilting his head slightly. “Is something wrong?”
Adam doesn’t answer immediately. He takes another drag and ash falls onto the folder. “Go fetch me a morning coffee.”
Michael turns toward the door. Just as his hand reaches the handle, he pauses and glances back over his shoulder. “The phone we got, the battery was dead. I put it on the charger. Don’t forget.”
Adam gives him a brief, nod. “…Right.”
A short while later, Michael walks back in carrying a steaming plastic cup.
He stops in his tracks. Adam has transformed the blank investigation board in front his desk. Pinned dead-center is a photograph of Sofia. Radiating out from her picture is a web of notes, address slips, her high school ID, and index cards detailing her family and friends—the basic anatomy of a missing person’s life.
“What do you think?” Michael asks, walking through the doorway.
Adam stares at the board, smoke rising from his cigarette. “Not enough. Not enough at all. It’s just bare bones, we need more information.”
A short while later, the BMW cuts through the wet, quiet roads. Adam keeps his hands firm on the wheel while Michael sits quietly in the passenger seat, watching the road unfold through the rain-streaked windshield.
“Be careful with your words,” Michael says, breaking the silence. “The situation isn’t smooth.”
Adam’s eyes stay glued to the asphalt ahead. After a long moment, he asks, “Why?”
“Some people disagree with the case being reopened.” Michael replies, and let’s out a sigh. “Well… you’re not exactly the most trusted person around here.”
Adam slowly turns his head, his cold gaze locking onto Michael.
“Do I look like someone who gives a fuck what those cocksuckers think of me?”
Michael doesn’t respond, choosing to keep his mouth shut as the car rolls onward.
The rain starts up again—a light drizzle at first, bleeding back into the endless, gray downpour. After a short drive, the BMW glides into a quiet residential part of the town and pulls up to the curb in front of a neat, two-story house.
Before Adam can turn off the ignition, his phone buzzes in his lap.
Michael steps out without waiting, shutting the passenger door softly and walking up the paved path toward the front door.
Adam picks up the phone and glances at the caller ID: The Wife.
He flips open and presses the phone to his ear, his posture relaxing into the seat.
“Love, you didn’t come home yesterday either,” a gentle voice says over the speaker. “Are you doing alright?”
Adam lets out a long, quiet sigh. “Grace. I’m sorry… I got tangled up in work.”
“No, love, don’t apologize,” she says, her tone warm and forgiving. “I know how busy you get. Just tell me you’re eating properly.”
A faint chuckle escapes his lips. “Yeah. I’ve been eating… well enough. I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to holding down the fort,” she replies softly. “Besides, I’ve got Caesar here with me. He’s dying to see you—every time I say your name, he can’t stop wagging his tail.”
A genuine smile touches Adam’s face as he listens to her voice fill the quiet car. “I’ll see you soon, Grace.”
“I know. Take care of yourself, love.”
He sets the phone down, takes a deep breath, and steps out into the rain, clicking the door lock behind him. He strides across the lawn to join Michael on the wooden front porch.