The city library of Ebonridge stood older than most buildings around it. While glass towers had grown in the last decade, the library remained a stubborn block of dark stone and tall windows. Its walls carried the quiet weight of history, and inside, the air smelled faintly of dust, paper, and old wood.
Bladehart arrived ten minutes early.
He stood across the street first, watching the entrance. People came and went—students, an elderly man with a newspaper, a woman with two children. Nothing unusual.
He crossed the street and pushed open the heavy door.
Inside, the building was calm. The kind of silence that made footsteps sound louder than they should. Rows of tall shelves stretched deep into the room, and the soft yellow lighting gave the place a warm glow.
Bladehart moved toward the back where the public computers were.
Aurora was already there.
She sat with her backpack open beside her, typing quickly on a laptop. A stack of printed papers lay scattered across the table like pieces of a puzzle.
She looked up the moment he approached.
"You're early," she said.
"You're earlier."
Aurora grinned.
"I didn't want the good table to disappear."
Bladehart pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. His eyes immediately moved to the papers.
Maps.
Newspaper clippings.
Printed records.
"You've been busy," he said.
Aurora leaned back slightly.
"I told you I've been investigating."
Bladehart picked up one of the pages. It showed a news article from three weeks earlier.
Local Teen Reported Missing.
He set it down.
"How many?" he asked.
Aurora tapped a key and turned the laptop toward him.
"Six now."
Bladehart frowned.
"Six?"
"Another one this afternoon," she said quietly. "A girl this time. Fifteen."
Bladehart felt the familiar tightening in his chest again.
Six teenagers in less than a month.
That wasn't random.
Aurora pointed at the screen.
"I've been mapping everything. Dates, times, locations, last sightings."
Bladehart leaned closer.
The map of Ebonridge filled the screen. Red dots marked each disappearance.
He studied them carefully.
They still formed that rough circle.
And Hollow Street sat exactly in the middle.
"You see it?" Aurora asked.
"Yes."
Aurora reached for a marker and circled the center on one of the printed maps.
"Every single one of them disappeared within walking distance of this place."
"Hollow Street."
"Exactly."
Bladehart leaned back slightly.
"That street has always been bad," he said. "But kidnappings like this…"
"Are organized," Aurora finished.
He nodded.
Aurora studied his face for a moment.
"You've been there before, haven't you?"
Bladehart didn't answer immediately.
"A few times."
"At night?"
"Yes."
Aurora folded her arms.
"And you didn't think that was important information?"
Bladehart shrugged slightly.
"I was observing."
"Observing what?"
"The people. The movement."
Aurora leaned forward.
"And?"
Bladehart hesitated.
"There are men there who don't belong."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's not very specific."
"They don't act like locals," he explained. "They move like they're guarding something."
Aurora's eyes lit up.
"Guarding what?"
"I don't know."
Aurora immediately started typing again.
"That's actually helpful," she said.
Bladehart watched the screen as she added notes.
"You really plan to keep records of everything," he said.
"Of course."
"Why?"
Aurora looked up.
"Because details solve mysteries."
Bladehart considered that.
Fair point.
Aurora closed the laptop halfway and leaned forward.
"Okay," she said. "Your turn."
"My turn?"
"You've clearly been doing more than 'observing,' Bladehart."
He said nothing.
Aurora smirked.
"I saw the news footage from last week."
Bladehart stiffened slightly.
"There was a report about a mugger being found unconscious in an alley," she continued. "The victim said someone stepped in and saved her."
Bladehart remained silent.
Aurora tilted her head.
"Dark clothes. Hood. Moved fast."
She pointed at him.
"That was you."
Bladehart sighed quietly.
"You shouldn't assume things."
Aurora laughed softly.
"I'm not assuming."
Bladehart didn't argue.
For a moment they sat in silence, listening to the faint hum of the building.
Then Aurora spoke again.
"You said something earlier today."
Bladehart looked up.
"What?"
"You said something on Hollow Street was watching."
He nodded slowly.
Aurora lowered her voice slightly.
"What did you mean by that?"
Bladehart looked around the library before answering.
"I don't know exactly."
"That's comforting."
"But I've felt it," he continued.
Aurora frowned slightly.
"Felt it?"
"Like someone was always nearby," he said. "Even when the street was empty."
Aurora considered that.
"Could just be lookouts."
"Maybe."
"But you don't think so," she said.
Bladehart shook his head.
"No."
Aurora leaned back again.
"Well," she said, "that makes things a little creepier."
Bladehart almost smiled again.
Aurora grabbed another paper and slid it toward him.
"This is the part that bothers me the most."
Bladehart looked down.
It was a timeline.
Dates were written in careful order.
Disappearances every three to four days.
"See the pattern?" she asked.
"Yes."
Aurora tapped the final blank space at the end of the timeline.
"If it continues like this…"
Bladehart finished the thought.
"Another one will disappear soon."
Aurora nodded slowly.
"Probably tonight or tomorrow."
Bladehart looked toward the window.
The sky outside was already dark.
"How late does the library stay open?" he asked.
"Ten."
Bladehart checked his watch.
"Eight forty-five."
Aurora noticed the shift in his posture.
"You're thinking about going there tonight."
"Yes."
Aurora immediately stood up.
"Good."
Bladehart looked at her.
"You're not coming."
She stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
"It's dangerous."
"So?"
"You don't have training."
Aurora crossed her arms.
"I have common sense."
"That won't stop kidnappers."
Aurora leaned forward slightly.
"And you think you can stop them alone?"
Bladehart didn't answer.
Aurora shook her head.
"You're not the only one who wants to help people, you know."
He looked at her quietly.
"You could get hurt."
She shrugged.
"Welcome to investigative work."
Bladehart stood.
Aurora grabbed her backpack quickly.
"I'm coming."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Aurora smiled slightly.
"You realize this argument isn't going to work, right?"
Bladehart sighed.
"You're stubborn."
"You noticed."
He looked at the maps one more time.
Then back at her.
"Fine."
Aurora's smile widened.
"But you follow my instructions," he added.
She saluted playfully.
"Yes, boss."
Bladehart shook his head and started walking toward the exit.
Aurora hurried beside him.
"You know," she said, "this is the part in stories where the investigation gets interesting."
Bladehart pushed open the door.
The night air outside was colder now.
"Let's hope it stays just interesting," he said.
Aurora looked down the dark street ahead.
"Something tells me it won't."
They started walking toward the eastern district.
Neither of them noticed the man standing across the street under a broken streetlight.
He watched them quietly.
Then he lifted a phone to his ear.
"Two of them," he muttered.
A pause.
"Yes."
He continued watching as Bladehart and Aurora disappeared into the night.
"They're heading toward Hollow Street."