The First Clues

The morning rose gently, bathing Miria's room in golden light. She stretched slowly before getting out of bed and starting her daily routine. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, she tackled the household chores, her mind already focused on the next step of her research.

Once everything was in order, she grabbed her notebook from her desk and sat on her bed, flipping through it attentively. The day before, she had written down several addresses where she might find clues about Elma Faurel.

The names of the locations stood out clearly on the page:

1. An old residential building in the East district

2. A house on the northern outskirts of the city

3. A small studio near downtown

4. A housing complex in the West district

These places were far from her neighborhood, but she had to check them.

Determined, Miria put on a jacket and stepped outside.

Her first stop was the old residential building in the East district. The building looked aged but well-maintained. She knocked on the concierge's door and asked if a certain Elma Faurel had ever lived there.

The man squinted, thought for a moment, then shook his head.

— No, we don't know anyone by that name.

Miria thanked him and left, a slight sigh escaping her lips.

She then headed to the house on the northern outskirts of the city. It was a simple home with a small garden, located in a quiet neighborhood. An elderly woman opened the door.

— Excuse me, but did an Elma Faurel ever live here?

The lady looked at her curiously before responding with a regretful tone:

— No, I don't know anyone by that name.

Miria thanked her and continued on her way.

She then arrived at a small studio near downtown. The building was new and seemed to house short-term tenants. She questioned the caretaker.

— Sorry, but no, we don't know anyone by that name.

Another dead end.

Finally, she went to a housing complex in the West district. After asking a neighbor sitting on her doorstep, she received the same answer as before:

— No, we don't know anyone by that name.

Miria sighed. There was only one place left on her list: a small house on the outskirts of the city.

The journey to the house felt longer than it actually was. The place was modest, surrounded by a small garden with wildflowers.

She stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

A few seconds later, a woman opened the door. Miria felt her heart skip a beat. She looked a lot like Elma Faurel. However, one noticeable difference stood out: her hair was not the same color as Elma's.

— Hello, said Miria, slightly hesitant. Are you Elma Faurel?

The woman's eyes widened briefly, a flicker of surprise passing through her gaze. But she quickly composed herself and offered a polite smile.

— Oh… no, I'm her sister.

Miria slightly furrowed her brows but didn't insist.

— I see. Does your sister live here?

The woman shook her head.

— No, we haven't seen each other in years. I'm sorry.

Miria studied her for a moment, searching for any sign of hesitation. But the woman remained impassive.

— Alright, thank you anyway, she replied with a forced smile.

She turned to leave, but instinctively, she glanced back one last time. That's when she noticed a detail she had missed at first glance: a flower tattoo on the woman's neck.

A chill ran down her spine, but she decided not to linger. She made a mental note of the detail and resumed her walk.

As she walked, her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was a message from her friends.

Marlie: "We're at the park! Are you coming?"

Miria smiled. After such a frustrating morning, she could use a moment of relaxation.

Miria: "On my way!"

She quickened her pace, eager to meet her friends.