BL 𝟐

She sighed, placing a grocery bag on the counter.

"I brought you some actual food. You can’t live on instant noodles forever."

"Thanks," he muttered, genuinely grateful.

She watched him for a moment.

"You’ve been quiet lately. More than usual."

"Just thinking."

"About Ethan?"

He nodded. "Always."

"Leo, it’s been five years," she said gently, her hand resting on his arm.

"Don’t you think it’s time to… to try and move forward?"

"How can I, Sarah? They never found him." His voice was barely a whisper.

"No body. Nothing."

"I know, honey. Believe me, I know the pain. But sometimes… sometimes there are no answers."

"I can’t accept that." He pulled away, walking to the window.

"I just can’t."

"What are you going to do, Leo? Keep living in this… shrine?" She gestured around the apartment, every corner filled with Ethan’s presence, from his unfinished canvas on the easel to the collection of mismatched mugs he’d adored.

"I’m going to find him." The words hung in the air, a desperate vow.

Sarah looked at him, her expression a mix of sorrow and resignation.

"You’ve been down this road before, Leo. It only hurts you more."

"This time, it’s different."

The next few weeks were a blur of cold calls and dead ends. Leo revisited old police reports, scoured obscure forums, and even contacted private investigators, most of whom politely declined, citing the lack of new evidence. He felt like a detective in a bad novel, chasing shadows.

One afternoon, buried in a pile of dusty archives at the local library, he found a forgotten newspaper clipping from a small town hours away. It was dated a few days after the crash, reporting a minor traffic incident involving a commercial truck matching the description of the one that had hit them.

The truck had been impounded for a faulty brake light, then released. A flicker of something, a tiny spark of possibility, ignited in Leo’s chest.

He showed the article to Sarah. "Look, Sarah. This truck. It was in Pine Ridge days after the crash."

"So? Trucks drive all over the country, Leo."

"But this one matches the description. And it was impounded. What if… what if they found something then? Something they didn't connect to our accident?"

Sarah’s brow furrowed. "That’s a huge leap."

"It’s all I have."

Pine Ridge was a sleepy town, nestled deep in the mountains, a place time seemed to have forgotten. The police station was small, a single officer behind a cluttered desk.

"Can I help you?" the officer, a burly man with a kind face, asked.

"Yes. I’m Leo Hayes. I’m looking for information about a truck impounded here five years ago. Around… June 15th."

The officer scratched his head. "That was a while ago. What kind of truck?"

Leo described it. The officer pulled out a thick, dusty ledger.

"Hmm. Let’s see… Ah, here we go. Old man Henderson’s truck. Faulty brake light, as I recall."

"Was there anything else?" Leo pressed, his heart pounding.

"Anything unusual found in or around the truck?"

The officer flipped through the pages. "Nope. Just the usual stuff. Brakes were fixed, he picked it up."

"Are you sure?" Leo asked, a desperation creeping into his voice.

"No personal items? No… anything?"

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