Page 20 of A Sister's Secret
"And we'd all go looking for her, only to find her sitting there, serene as anything, convinced she'd seen the fair folk."
They laughed as Oliver told the stories, each story a piece of the puzzle that had been jumbled and incomplete for far too long. It wasn't just about discovering what happened to Michelle or unraveling the mystery; it was about healing a wound that had marked Oliver and his family for years.
The drive stretched on, winding roads leading higher into the embrace of the mountains. The air grew cooler and the wilderness more pronounced, enveloping them in its untamed beauty. It was easy to imagine how someone could disappear here, swallowed by the vastness.
"Whatever happens," Lisa said, her hand finding Oliver's as he drove, "we're doing this together. We'll face whatever we find, just like we've faced everything else."
Oliver squeezed her hand in response, his blue eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. Hope, fear, determination—all etched into the lines of his rugged face.
"Together, forever and always," he echoed, the promise binding them as tightly as the rings on their fingers.
The mountain peaks loomed ahead, majestic and daunting, but Lisa felt only the thrumming excitement of a challenge to be met head-on. They were a team again, unbreakable in their unity, and as the miles disappeared behind them, the anticipation of discovery propelled them forward into the heart of the mystery.
The crunch of gravel gave way to the soft pad of earth as they stepped onto the trail, the boundary line between the known and the unknown. They had driven as far as they could until the road ended, and now they had to hike the rest of the way to the cabin. Lisa could feel the chill of the mountain air seeping through her jacket, invigorating and pure. Each breath was like a new beginning, each exhalation a release of city life's tight grip on her lungs.
With steady hands, she pulled out the worn leather-bound notebook that had become her constant companion in recent weeks. The pages were filled with hastily scribbled notes, maps sketched in moments of inspiration, and now they would hold the details of this journey. Her fingers traced the pen over paper, detailing the curl of ferns along the path, the mossy stones that served as silent trail markers, and the occasional deer track that crossed their own.
"Look at this," Oliver murmured, pointing toward a hawk circling above. "She's hunting—just like us."
Lisa glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Let's hope we're as successful as she is," she said, returning the focus to her notebook. They continued in silence, save for the symphony of nature around them—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, and the whisper of the wind through the pines.
It wasn't long before the forest seemed to close around them, the trees standing tall and dense, guardians of the secrets within their domain. Time lost meaning as they moved deeper into the wilderness; the world was reduced to the space of light and shadow that surrounded them.
Then, as the afternoon began its slow descent into evening, something caught Lisa's eye—a dark shape that seemed out of place amidst the sea of the forest. She tugged at Oliver's sleeve, her heart quickening.
"Over there," she whispered, her voice barely rising above the sound of a nearby stream. "Do you see it?"
Oliver followed her gaze, squinting against the dappling sunlight. "That must be the cabin?" he guessed. A sense of unease settled over them both. This was where Michelle had taken her own life, according to the police report. She shot herself in the head and left a note simply stating:
I can’t do it anymore. Goodbye.
Together, they veered off the main trail, pushing through brambles and low-hanging branches until they stood before the structure. It was an old cabin, seemingly abandoned, its wooden planks weathered and gray. A shiver ran down Lisa's spine—not from the cold, but from the realization that this forgotten place might hold the key to the questions that had haunted them.
"This is the last place Michelle was," she breathed, the possibility hanging between them like a tangible thing.
"Could be a hundred years old," Oliver countered, though his voice lacked conviction. He was trying to derail the conversation and not think of his sister in her last hours. The thought was simply too hard. His eyes scanned the clearing, searching for any sign of recent activity, but all he could see was the police tape fluttering in the wind.
"Let's check it out," Lisa said, determination edging her words. There was no room for hesitation; they had come too far to turn back now. She stepped forward, unconsciously reaching for the notebook in her pocket—her shield and record against the unknown.
Oliver nodded, and together, they approached the cabin, each step measured and cautious. The door hung slightly ajar, inviting or warning; they couldn't be sure. But as they crossed the threshold, the sinking sun cast long shadows across the forest floor, and the cabin awaited them, silent and still, a mystery within the mountain's embrace.
Dust motes danced in the slanted light as Lisa's fingers traced the edges of a Polaroid photograph. Lisa had found it inside a book left on the nightstand by the bed. It wasn’t until she lifted it up that the photo fell out. The picture was a candid shot, a moment frozen in time of Michelle, Oliver's sister. And it was a recent one. She was visibly older than in the others Lisa had seen her in.
"Look at this, Ollie," Lisa whispered, passing him the photograph. Her heart constricted as she watched his hands, strong and capable from years spent carving wood, shake slightly as he took it.
"Michelle…." His voice trailed off, a mixture of wonder and sorrow. The image was undeniable—here was a piece of her, a clue that screamed relevance amidst the dust and shadows of the long-abandoned cabin.
Oliver drew closer, his presence a comforting warmth at her side as they pored over the photo together. This sharing of discovery felt intimate as their heads bent close, fingers brushing occasionally. Their connection deepened with every revelation, the search for his sister’s last moments forging an unspoken bond that melded their determination and hope.
“She must have been here for a longer period,” Lisa said. “The police took all her belongings as evidence, but the report said that her suitcase was here, and her clothes were on hangers. You only hang up clothes if you plan to stay for more than just a day or two, right?”
“You’re making a good point,” he said. “Do you think she was alone?”
Lisa held up the photo she had found inside the book. “Not at all. Someone took this photo. It was taken here inside the cabin; you can see the fireplace in the background.”
“You’re right. She couldn’t have been here alone then,” he said. “Maybe she was meeting someone here.”
“A secret love, perhaps?” Lisa stared at the photo and then realized something. “Give me my phone, please.”