Chapter 10
1081 Words
Maya didn’t remember finishing her shopping.
One minute she was standing there, watching Elara walk away like she hadn’t just dropped something heavy into her life—and the next, she was at the register, setting items down she didn’t remember picking up.
Bread.
Eggs.
A frozen meal.
A bottle of water.
Normal things.
Grounding things.
The cashier barely spoke. Just rang everything up with quiet efficiency, eyes flicking up once—lingering just long enough to feel like recognition, then dropping again.
Maya paid, grabbed her bag, and stepped back outside.
The air felt cooler now.
The sun was lower, stretching shadows across the street like long fingers pulling everything down with it.
And for the first time since she got here—
Maya felt tired.
Mentally tired.
Like her brain had been running nonstop, trying to piece something together that refused to make sense.
The walk back to the motel felt longer than it should’ve.
Quieter too.
Even the few people that had been out earlier were gone now.
Or maybe she just wasn’t seeing them.
Her grip tightened slightly on the grocery bag.
Elara’s voice lingered in her head.
I’ve been waiting.
Maya exhaled slowly.
“Yeah… okay,” she muttered under her breath. “That’s not weird at all.”
But it was.
Everything about that was weird.
The confidence.
The way she spoke like nothing had changed.
Like Maya hadn’t been gone for years.
Like she’d always known she’d come back.
Maya shook her head and kept walking slowly. Glancing at her surroundings, taking in the fact that she had actually came back. Until she was back at the hotel everything was so close in the town it only took her a moment.
The motel room felt different when she stepped back inside. Smaller. Quieter.
Like the walls had closed in just a little.
She set the groceries down on the small table and locked the door behind her without thinking.
Then checked it.
Once.
Twice.
“…You’re fine,” she muttered.
But she couldn’t really convince herself.
Slowly she began unpacking. Starting a routine she’d done for years no matter where she was.
Set the water bottle on the nightstand. Put the frozen meal in the small fridge. Left the rest in the bag. Then she just stood there.
Looking around. Thinking. Let released a long sigh.
It was too much.
Too many things happening at once. The posters. The town. People recognizing her—
No.
Recognizing her mother.
Sheriff Vale already knowing who she was.
Her house. Unchanged. And now—
Elara.
Maya let out a slow breath and ran a hand over her face.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Think.”
She grabbed the small notepad from beside the bed and a pen. Sat down. And started writing.
At the top of the page, she wrote:
Red Hollow
Then underneath:
Missing People
She paused.
Then added:
• Posters everywhere
• Different ages
• Some marked “STILL ALIVE” (red marker)
Her pen hovered for a second.
Then moved again.
Town Behavior
• Quiet
• People watching
• Not answering questions
• Recognize Mom, not me
She tapped the pen lightly against the paper.
Thinking.
Then—
Sheriff Vale
• Knows me
• Elara’s dad
• Avoided real answers
• “People come back for wrong reasons”
Maya leaned back slightly, staring at the page. It didn’t feel like enough. Like she was missing something obvious. Something just out of reach.
Her eyes shifted. Landed on her bag. Specifically— on the folded flyer inside her jacket.
She pulled it out. Set it next to the notepad.
Ryan Thorn.
Missing.
Maya stared at it for a long moment. Her jaw tightened slightly. Then she added one more section.
Dad
• Missing
• Same as others?
• Why now?
Her grip on the pen tightened. She didn’t write what she was really thinking.
Didn’t write: Do I even care?
Because she didn’t have an answer for that.
Her eyes drifted back to the page.
Then— another thought hit her.
Her house. Her things. Her old room.
Maya sat up slightly.
“…My journals.” The words came out quiet.
But certain.
She used to write everything down. Back then. Before they left. Before that night.
If there were answers— they’d be there.
They had to be.
But something about that thought made her hesitate. Not because it didn’t make sense. Because it did. Too much. Like a door she wasn’t sure she wanted to open yet.
Maya leaned back again, staring at the ceiling now. Her mind drifting. Trying to reach back.
To remember. Elara.
Her name sat differently now. More present.
Maya closed her eyes. And for a second— she could almost see it.
Trees. The woods. Sunlight breaking through branches and laughter. Not hers. Someone else’s.
Light. Playful. Close.
“C’mon, Maya,” a voice said.
Familiar but distant.
“Don’t be scared. It’s not like they’ll find out.”
Maya’s brow furrowed slightly in her sleep. The image shifted. Blurred. She couldn’t see her face.
Just movement. Energy.
That same confidence. That same pull. Always pulling her further.
Deeper. Into something she didn’t fully understand.
“What if we get caught?” younger Maya’s voice asked.
Soft. Uncertain. A laugh in response. Low. Sure.
“They won’t,” the other voice said.
“They never do.”
Maya’s eyes snapped open.Her breath caught slightly as she sat up. The room came back into focus slowly.
Motel walls. Dim lighting. Silence.
She ran a hand over her face.
“…Just a dream.”
But it didn’t feel like one. It felt like— a memory. One she hadn’t thought about in years. One she wasn’t even sure was complete.
Her eyes moved back to the notepad. To the name she hadn’t written yet. Her pen hovered.
Then slowly— she added it.
Elara
She stared at it for a long moment. Then wrote underneath:
• Knew I’d come back
• Too confident
• Acting like nothing changed
• Wants to meet (drinks)
Maya set the pen down. Leaned back again and stared at the ceiling.
Everything felt like it was starting to connect. Not clearly. But enough to know—this wasn’t random.
None of it was.
Her eyes slowly closed again. But this time—sleep didn’t come easy.
And somewhere in the back of her mind—that voice lingered.
Soft, Certain and Waiting.
- Writer
