The Boy I Crashed Into

Chapter Six – Missing Pieces

I woke up buzzing. Mr. Sharma was the break we needed. After Mrs. Patel’s story, I could practically see the magazine article taking shape—real proof, not just complaints that vanished. I grabbed the printed photo of the yellow smoke and tucked it into my notebook before heading downstairs.

Mum was in the kitchen, already packing my lunch. “You were up late again. Still on that project?”

“Yeah. It’s getting good, Mum. We might actually help people.” I didn’t mention Luca or how his warnings kept echoing in my head.

She gave me that worried look. “Just be careful. Your father said the factory has reach. Don’t make waves we can’t handle.”

“I know. We’re being smart.” I kissed her cheek and dashed out, raincoat in hand even though the sky looked clearer today.

At school, I spotted Riya first. She waved me over near the lockers. “Did you hear anything from Luca? I texted him last night about Sharma, but no reply.”

“He’ll show. He said he was in.” I glanced down the hallway, half hoping to see him. When he finally appeared before homeroom, the camera lanyard still empty around his neck, he looked tired.

“Morning,” I said, falling into step beside him. “Ready to try Sharma again after school?”

Luca nodded, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Though he wasn’t home yesterday. Might be the same today.”

Riya joined us. “We’ll wait longer this time. Or ask neighbors. Maintenance guy for ten years? He has to know where the chemicals are going.”

The day crawled. I nailed my lines in rehearsal for once, but my mind kept drifting to the interview. During lunch I sketched out questions for Mr. Sharma—how the factory ran at night, what the yellow smoke really was, why complaints disappeared. Luca sat with us but stayed quiet, picking at his food.

“You’re doing that thing again,” I teased, nudging his arm. “The whole ‘this is a bad idea’ vibe. I thought we agreed to try.”

He looked at me then, something flickering across his face. “I’m here, aren’t I? Just don’t want you getting disappointed if it’s another dead end.”

“Or maybe you secretly like playing detective with us,” Riya joked.

Luca huffed a laugh. “Something like that.”

His shoulder brushed mine as we stood up, and for a second I remembered the library—how warm he’d felt. I pushed the thought away. Focus on the story.

After the bell, the three of us headed out again. The lanes felt familiar now, that sharp chemical smell mixing with cooking spices from open windows. Luca led the way without comment, hands in his pockets.

“You really do know every shortcut,” I said.

“Comes in handy,” he replied.

Mr. Sharma’s house looked the same—curtains drawn, quiet. We knocked. Waited. Knocked harder. Nothing.

“Maybe try the neighbors?” Riya suggested.

We split up. I took the house to the left. An older woman answered, wiping her hands on her sari. “Sharma? He left early this morning. Said something about visiting family up north. Didn’t say when he’d be back.”

My stomach sank a little. “Did he mention anything about his old job at the factory?”

The woman shook her head quickly. “He doesn’t talk about that place. Smart man.” She closed the door before I could ask more.

Riya struck out too. Luca came back last, shaking his head. “Neighbor said the same. Sudden trip.”

“That’s convenient,” I muttered. “Right after we start asking questions.”

Luca shifted. “People travel. Doesn’t mean anything.”

But it did. Mrs. Patel’s warning about being careful rang louder now. We started walking back, the energy from morning fading.

Riya flipped through her notes. “We still have the hospital records to chase. Or more families on that street. We can’t stop now.”

“Exactly,” I said. “This just proves we’re onto something. Luca, you in for another round tomorrow? Maybe after your photography club or whatever.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

We reached the main road. His black SUV was waiting again. Before he climbed in, I touched his arm lightly. “Hey. Thanks for sticking with this. I know you think it’s risky. But it matters.”

He looked down at my hand, then back at my face. For a moment his expression softened. “Just… be careful, Sophia. All of us.”

The SUV pulled away. Riya nudged me. “He’s weirdly intense about this. You notice?”

“Yeah. Like he knows more than he’s saying.” I shrugged it off for now. “Come on. Let’s organize what we have and plan the next move.”

Back home, I spread my notes across the table. The old complaint, Mrs. Patel’s details, the missing Mr. Sharma. It was coming together, even if slower than I wanted. Mum brought tea and sat with me for a bit, listening as I explained the coughing kids and the vanished letters.

“Just promise me you won’t go near the factory itself,” she said.

“Promise.”

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Luca’s tired eyes kept popping into my head. The way he’d steered the conversation with Mrs. Patel. How he always seemed one step ahead on these streets. And now Mr. Sharma conveniently gone the day after we got his name.

I grabbed my phone and typed a quick text to Luca.

*Still think it’s nothing? Sharma disappearing feels off.*

No reply yet. I set the phone down, but sleep didn’t come easy. Something bigger was happening here, and part of me wondered if Luca was protecting us… or protecting something else.

Tomorrow we’d push harder. The story needed to be told.