Station Announcement:
"Attention passengers pursuing vanished paths: footprints fade, but direction remains."
The train to Goa cut through the coastline like a silver needle stitching together two lost halves of a story.Rain streaked the windows in long, trembling lines.Inside the compartment, the group sat together — but in heavy, thoughtful silence.
Nish, flipping through old interviews and scribbled notes.Arjun, watching the landscape blur into green and grey.Arun, gripping the window ledge with restless hands.Kannan, staring at nothing, breathing slowly, as if afraid to inhale hope too quickly.Leena, who had insisted on coming because "searches need logic."Ananya, quiet, camera unused, observing without intruding.And Sara, the steady presence who rarely traveled but came this time because, as she said, "Some stories need witness."
The train rocked.The river from Kerala slowly widened into the sea.
A new chapter was beginning.
1. Arrival
Goa greeted them with heavy clouds and the smell of wet sand mixed with diesel.
They split into two auto-rickshaws.Nish held a folder with the address of the last known sighting:
St. Alwyn's Shelter for Runaway Children — Panaji Outskirts.
When they reached the old building, it looked abandoned — walls peeling, gates rusted, a signboard barely clinging to its hinges.
Kannan tightened his fists.
"This place was working in 2014?" he whispered.
Nish nodded.
"Records say it closed three years later."
They pushed open the gate.
The shelter yard was quiet, except for a lone dog sleeping in the shade.
Sara murmured, "This place has stories."
Arun swallowed. "And none of them easy."
2. The Caretaker Returns
An old man with a limp appeared at the doorway carrying a lantern.
He squinted.
"You people… tourists?"
Nish stepped forward.
"No sir. We're looking for records. Children who passed through here around 2014."
The old man frowned, then recognition flickered.
"Ahh… you're that archive fellow from Kerala."
Nish blinked. "You know me?"
The man grinned faintly.
"Small world, big sorrow."
He let them inside.
The shelter smelled of old wood, forgotten crayons, and memories left behind.
The man's name was Sebastian.
As they walked down the corridor, he said:
"We used to get many runaways. Hard stories. Soft hearts. Some stayed. Some left faster than they came."
He paused.
"Some left too quietly."
Kannan's breath caught.
Nish asked, "Do you remember a boy named Akshay?"
Sebastian stopped walking.
The entire corridor seemed to tighten like a held breath.
He turned slowly.
"Akshay… Akshay Ninan?"
Kannan nearly stumbled.
"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "Yes — that's him. Yes!"
Sebastian nodded once.
"He was here."
Arun gasped.
Sara covered her mouth.
Kannan stepped forward, trembling.
"Where… where did he go? Is he alive?"
Sebastian's eyes softened.
"He left."
Kannan's voice cracked.
"When?"
Sebastian looked away.
"After two weeks. Quiet boy. Always looking toward the highway, like he expected someone to arrive any moment."
He turned to Nish.
"You said this man is the father?"
Kannan nodded.
Sebastian sighed.
"He was waiting for you. Every single evening."
A muffled sob escaped Kannan.
Arun reached for his hand instinctively.
"And when you didn't come…"Sebastian's voice lowered."…the boy left a note."
"A note?" Nish asked quickly. "Do you still have it?"
Sebastian shook his head.
"No. The shelter was cleared out long ago. But I remember what it said."
Everyone leaned closer.
Sebastian looked at Kannan.
"It said: If Appa can't find me, I will find him. Even if it takes the whole country."
Kannan broke.
He turned his face away, shoulders shaking.
Sara held him gently.
Arun felt his chest tighten painfully — empathy and grief tangled like threads in a torn cloth.
Ananya whispered, "He wasn't lost… he was searching."
Arjun murmured, "A child tracing the outline of a father who wasn't there."
Nish swallowed.
"But where did he go after he left the shelter?"
Sebastian hesitated.
Then motioned for them to follow.
3. A Door Nobody Noticed
He led them to a small storage room near the back of the building.
Pushing aside a stack of old chairs, he revealed a narrow wooden door half-covered in dust.
"I kept something," he said quietly. "Something I shouldn't have. But that boy…"
He sighed deeply.
"He reminded me of someone I couldn't save."
He unlocked the door.
Inside was a small metal box.
Sebastian handed it to Kannan.
With trembling fingers, Kannan opened it.
Inside were:
A cloth bracelet
A torn bus ticket
A map of India folded into a small square
And a scrap of paper
Kannan picked up the paper with shaking hands.
On it, in small, uneven handwriting:
"Appa, I'm going to Mumbai.I heard someone like you works near the docks.I will find you."
The room went silent.
The sea breeze outside seemed to hold its breath.
Arun whispered:
"Mumbai."
Arjun inhaled sharply.
Leena's eyes widened.
Ananya closed her eyes as if steadying herself.
Nish scribbled rapidly.
Sara whispered a prayer.
And Kannan — shattered, trembling, hopeful — whispered:
"He came all the way…all the way to find me."
His voice broke completely.
"I never worked in Mumbai.He followed a lie.A rumour.A shadow."
Arun squeezed his hand.
Kannan whispered:
"We have to go there."
Nish nodded firmly.
"Yes," he said."We follow the next footprint."
Kannan held the scrap of paper to his chest.
"Akshay… my boy… I'm coming."
Outside, thunder rolled softly in the distance —not as a warning,but like a drum beginning a march.