Chapter 17 - Time Capsule

The descent was slow, the uneven ground forcing them to tread carefully. Vines tangled over fallen headstones, the earth damp beneath their feet.

As they approached, the structure became clearer, a lone stone monument, squat and unadorned, half-sunken into the hillside. Time had worn it down, smoothing its edges, erasing whatever purpose it once served.

No names. No symbols. Just silence.

Kath folded her arms. "You sure this is it? Looks like just another forgotten rock to me."

Emma ignored her, stepping closer. Her fingers brushed the stone's surface, searching, feeling. Then, there. A faint indentation, almost lost beneath centuries of erosion.

She wiped away the dirt.

Letters. Faint, shallow, but still there.

Holloway knelt beside her, tracing the words with his fingers, reading aloud:

"We buried the question, but the answer never left."

Silence.

Kath frowned. "The hell does that mean?"

Emma's mind spun, piecing it together. "It's not telling us where something is." She glanced back toward the graveyard above. "It's telling us what happened."

Holloway's gaze darkened. "Someone tried to erase the truth."

Emma nodded. The grave had already been dug up, whatever was there was gone. And now, this message… not a clue, not a lead, but a reminder.

Kath exhaled. "Okay. Creepy message from the past. And now what?"

Emma looked at the graveyard, the statue, the weight of everything pressing in around them.

"Now," she murmured, "we figure out what they were so afraid of."

Holloway drove them back and dropped them off before heading elsewhere. He didn't explain, and Emma didn't ask.

She and Kath entered the station, exhausted. The weight of everything pressed down on them, but as soon as they stepped inside, something felt off.

At the far end of the room, two figures sat on a bench. The man was holding his wife, her body trembling as she sobbed into his chest.

Jia's parents.

Emma's stomach twisted.

She and Kath approached cautiously. "Mr. and Mrs. Sun?"

The mother lifted her head. Her eyes were red, swollen. Then, before Emma could react, she dropped to her knees, gripping Emma's legs with desperate fingers.

"My Jia… My Jia is lost, I can't find her."

Emma froze. The words hit her like a physical blow.

The officer nearby cleared his throat, stepping forward. His face was grim. "She came here last night asking for you and Alex, but we had to send her back. Then these two arrived at 2 a.m. and haven't left since."

Emma's pulse pounded in her ears. "What about the footage?"

Kath's voice was sharp, almost shouting. "The cameras, check them!"

The officer hesitated, then sighed. "There's nothing."

Emma stiffened.

"Nothing?"

He shook his head. "She disappeared."

The word echoed.

Disappeared.

The world spun around her.

Disappeared.

Emma's breath caught. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground.

This can't be happening.

Not again.

She gripped the floor, her vision blurring.

"I failed again…"

....

Holloway sat in his car outside the house. His daughter's house.

He had no reason to be there. No reason to watch. But he did.

The windows were dark. The streets were quiet.

Too quiet.

Something was wrong.

The air felt… still.

His instincts screamed at him, but he couldn't place why.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped out of the car.

And walked toward the house.

Holloway stepped inside.

Silence.

Not the usual kind of silence that settled over a home at night, the unnatural kind. The kind that made the hairs on his arms rise.

"Darling?" he called out.

No reply.

He rushed through the house, checking every corner, every shadow, his heartbeat a steady drum in his chest.

Then he climbed the stairs.

In the dim glow of a nightlight, his grandson lay asleep, his small chest rising and falling peacefully.

Holloway hesitated.

He reached out, but stopped himself.

Instead, he sat down beside the bed, his eyes landing on a worn photo album resting nearby. He picked it up with careful fingers, flipping through pages of a life he hadn't been a part of.

His grandson, laughing. His daughter, smiling.

A family he had never truly known.

Regret weighed heavy on him. I should've been there.

Then-

A sound.

The front door creaked open.

Footsteps.

His daughter stepped in, carrying a bag of groceries only to freeze.

The bags slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was firm, controlled, but there was fear and anger beneath it.

Holloway stood. "Listen, I-"

"No." She cut him off. "You don't get to-"

A sudden clatter

Something rolled inside.

A metallic cylinder.

Holloway's eyes widened.

"Cover yourself!" he shouted, but there was nowhere to run.

Gas erupted, filling the room in an instant. His daughter staggered, coughing, reaching for her son-

Then darkness.

Figures entered the room, masked, faceless.

They crouched beside Holloway's unconscious form.

One of them leaned in, voice low, almost mocking.

"We warned you, old man."

A pause.

"Thanks for leading us to your daughter."

Then, they took what they came for.