Jeanne came home to an unsettling silence. The lights were off, and an endless darkness swallowed her.
"Filian?" she called into the dark, her voice echoing through the hallway. "Filian?"
No answer.
She checked Filian's room first. The bed was untouched. She checked the bathroom. The closets. Under the table, behind doors, places she knew made no sense but searched anyway.
Nothing.
Her chest tightened. Her hands trembled.
She should be here. It was too late for her to be outside.
"Filian!" Jeanne shouted again, louder now.
Silence pressed in on her ears.
What if she'd been taken? What if something had happened on the way home?
Her thoughts spiraled, each worse than the last. With shaking hands, she called the Commander.
"Commander…" Her voice broke. "Filian is gone. I—I can't find her. Have you seen her? Anywhere?"
"I'm sorry," he said after a pause. "I haven't seen her today. Maybe check the school. See if she was there. Let me know if there's anything I can help with."
Hope flickered.
Maybe she went home with a friend and stayed too long.
The school answered quickly.
"Yes, ma'am. Filian attended today, but she reported feeling ill and asked to leave early. We attempted to contact you, but no call came through."
The words hit harder than silence.
Jeanne's knees buckled. Her only family. The warmth of her home. Gone.
No, that can't be. She—She surely must have gotten lost… right? But what if something really did happen? What if she's hurt? What if she got kidnapped? What if…
She was overwhelmed with thoughts growing darker and darker, spiraling into despair.
Jeanne ran.
Out the door, down the streets, screaming as loud as she could.
"FILIAN! WHERE ARE YOU?! PLEASE ANSWER ME!"
Windows opened. Faces stared. Jeanne didn't care. She kept running, screaming her sister's name into endless dark alleys that did not answer.
***
The police eventually brought Jeanne back to her home, after receiving a noise complaint.
They asked questions. Gave reassurance. Promised to give their best to search for her little sister.
When they left, the house felt even emptier. The oppressing silence weighing heavy on her
Jeanne sat shaking on the floor, curling up and hugging her arms around herself. None of this felt real. Filian was smart. Careful. She wouldn't just disappear.
She must have gotten lost… She'll come home… for sure.
Her throat burned. She stood up with shaking knees. Every step felt heavier than the last.
She went to the kitchen for a glass of water to calm her down. She turned on the faucet.
Nothing.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
On the third try, water sputtered out—darker than it should have been. Almost black.
Jeanne didn't notice.
She drank.
The bitterness made her gag and cough.
She poured it out and filled the glass again. This time it was clear. Normal.
She lifted the glass to her mouth, but didn't drink. She stared into it, watching the surface ripple.
What if she never comes back?
The thought nearly broke her. She set the glass down and with an empty look on her face, left the kitchen.
Behind her, the faucet began to drip.
Drip… Drip… Drip…
A thin puddle of black liquid gathered under the water faucet. It trembled, rippled, came alive—and slowly slid into the drain, vanishing into the dark.
***
Three days passed.
Jeanne took sick leave. Filian remained missing. However she wasn't the only one.
Another child was reported missing. Then another. And another.
Parents panicked. Mothers wept over their lost children. The city was getting restless.
***
The Commander was worried about Jeanne. On the night of the incident he had gone out as well but without results. He hadn't seen her for days.
knock knock
"Jeanne? it's me."
Silence
"Jeanne? Are you home?"
She hasn't answered his messages at all.
Was he intruding? She was still grieving after all… Should he leave her alone to sort out her feelings?
…
But what if something happened? What if she had gone missing too?
A cold knot formed in his stomach.
"Jeanne!! Are you in there?!" He shouted, louder this time.
Movement. Footsteps. A sense of relief.
The door opened.
Jeanne stood there hollow-eyed. She got thinner, clearly seeing the grief eat away at her.
She didn't speak. She simply stepped forward and collapsed against him, sobbing into his chest.
"Thank you for coming…" she whispered.
He held her, steady and quiet.
"Let's go inside," he said softly.
***
Jeanne barely spoke. She sat staring at the floor, eyes swollen, hands clenched.
The Commander stayed.
While cleaning, he noticed a drawing on the table—a floating city, sketched in uneven lines, shooting stars streaking behind it.
"Did… Filian draw this?" he asked.
Jeanne nodded and turned her head slowly to the drawing.
"She said she wanted to be an engineer, when she grows up" she murmured. "She wanted to build cities that could fly—"
Her voice broke.
He pulled her into his arms again.
They spent the day together. Cooking. Cleaning. Sitting in silence.
He may not know how to make her happy again. But what he could do, was to bear that cross, side by side, helping her carry the weight of losing someone dear.
***
The next morning, Stella approached him.
"Is Jeanne… doing okay?" She asked worriedly.
"She's… not well," he admitted. "But she'll be fine. She is strong after all…"
Stella hesitated. She looked down at the ground, almost shamefully.
"I should visit her," she said quietly. "No matter what's happened between us, she is still my friend."
The air in the post was heavy. Missing children. Night shifts. Fear and uncertainty creeping into every corridor.
Everyone waited.
Hoping these days would go by quickly.