The police returned the next day, their investigation in full swing. They asked about Daniel’s friends, his habits, his recent behavior—anything that could help untangle the mystery. I answered as best as I could, but I felt like grasping at shadows.

Days stretched on. Matthew began to speak, his voice a fragile whisper. He clung to me, his small hands gripping mine as though they were a lifeline.

Bit by bit, fragments of truth emerged through his halting words. There had been arguments, loud and frightening.

A stranger’s voice—angry, insistent. Sounds of struggle. And then silence.