CHAPTER 3
986 Words
# Chapter 3: The Forgotten Lullaby
The rain had stopped by the time Elena and Adrian stepped outside the City Records Office. The sky remained grey, and the streets glistened beneath the afternoon light.
Neither of them spoke for several moments.
Both were thinking about the same photograph.
The little girl.
The little boy.
The way their hands fit together as if they had promised never to let go.
"I know this sounds strange," Adrian finally said, "but when I looked at that picture, I felt like I wasn't seeing strangers."
Elena hugged the folder tightly against her chest.
"I felt the same."
She hesitated before continuing.
"I've had nightmares since I was a child."
Adrian looked at her.
"So have I."
They exchanged uneasy smiles.
It was too much to be a coincidence.
---
Later that afternoon, Adrian invited Elena to his office at **The Herald**, the newspaper where he worked.
Stacks of files covered his desk. Newspaper clippings, photographs, maps, and handwritten notes were pinned across a large corkboard.
At the centre was one name.
**St. Mercy Orphanage**
Red strings connected it to several missing-person cases dating back more than twenty years.
Elena slowly walked closer.
"You've been investigating this for a long time."
"Almost four years."
"Why?"
Adrian leaned against his desk.
"My parents told me I was adopted when I was eight."
Elena looked up in surprise.
"They didn't know much about my early childhood either. My records were incomplete."
He smiled sadly.
"I thought it was normal until I started comparing adoption files."
"And?"
"Mine wasn't the only one with missing pages."
Elena's heart sank.
"So there are others."
Adrian nodded.
"Dozens."
He opened a filing cabinet and removed a thick folder.
Inside were copies of adoption certificates.
Many had the same unusual pattern.
Missing signatures.
Blank medical histories.
Redacted names.
Every file traced back to the same period.
Every trail ended at St. Mercy Orphanage.
---
As the evening grew darker, Adrian brewed two cups of coffee.
"You don't have to do this alone," he said.
Elena accepted the mug.
"I've spent my whole life wondering who I was."
She looked down.
"If someone stole my past..."
Her voice trembled.
"...I need to know why."
Adrian nodded.
"We'll find out."
For the first time since her parents died, Elena felt a small sense of hope.
She wasn't searching alone anymore.
---
That night, Elena returned to her apartment.
She carefully placed the old photograph and the adoption papers on her dining table.
Beside them rested the silver locket her father had left behind.
She opened it once more.
This time she noticed something she had missed before.
The inside edge of the locket contained tiny engraved letters.
**E.A.**
"What does that mean?"
She gently pressed the back of the locket.
A soft click echoed through the room.
The locket opened again, revealing a hidden compartment.
Inside was a tiny piece of folded paper.
With shaking hands, Elena unfolded it.
It contained only a few handwritten words.
**Remember the song.**
Nothing else.
She frowned.
"What song?"
As she whispered the question, a melody drifted into her mind.
A slow lullaby.
She had never heard it before.
Or so she thought.
Without realizing it, she quietly hummed the tune.
The moment the final note left her lips, another memory surfaced.
A little girl sitting on a cold floor.
Several frightened children huddled beside her.
She was singing the same lullaby.
Trying to comfort them.
A little boy smiled weakly.
"You sing nicely."
The girl laughed softly.
"When we're free..."
She paused.
"...I'll sing it outside."
The vision disappeared.
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
"That was me..."
---
Across the city, Adrian sat alone in his apartment.
He couldn't stop staring at the old photograph.
Something about the girl's smile felt painfully familiar.
He rubbed his temples.
Suddenly...
A melody entered his mind.
The same lullaby.
He quietly hummed along without thinking.
Then another memory appeared.
A frightened little boy crying in the dark.
The same little girl sat beside him.
She gently placed a blanket over his shoulders.
"It's okay," she whispered.
"I'm here."
The little boy looked at her.
"What if they come back?"
She squeezed his hand.
"Then we'll protect each other."
Adrian opened his eyes.
His breathing had become uneven.
"I know that voice..."
He stood and walked to his bookshelf.
Hidden behind several novels was a small wooden music box.
His adoptive mother had given it to him years ago, saying it had been found with him when he was adopted.
He slowly turned the key.
The music box began to play.
It was the same lullaby.
Adrian froze.
"No..."
His hands trembled.
"How is this possible?"
---
Meanwhile, miles away on the outskirts of the city, an elderly woman sat inside a quiet nursing home.
For years she had lived alone, avoiding visitors.
The television played softly in the background when the evening news reported that an investigative journalist had reopened several old missing-children cases.
The woman immediately recognised Adrian's photograph.
She gasped.
"It can't be..."
Her eyes filled with fear.
Then she whispered a name she had not spoken in twenty years.
"Little Sparrow..."
It was the nickname she had once given to a brave little girl who always protected the younger children.
She reached for an old tin box hidden beneath her bed.
Inside was a faded photograph of several children standing outside St. Mercy Orphanage.
Unlike every other copy, this one had names written on the back.
Her trembling fingers stopped over two names.
**Elena.**
**Adrian.**
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"They're alive..."
She looked toward the window.
"But if they're remembering..."
Her expression changed from relief to worry.
"...then the people responsible will remember them too."
Outside, a black car slowly pulled into the nursing home's car park.
Someone had come looking for the old woman.
And they were not there to help.
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