A mother went shopping but never returned. Fourteen years later, her family discovers the shocking reason Why…

When they finally pulled into the driveway, the porch light still glowing welcomingly, Aldy was the first to break the tension. Are we still watching a movie? he asked cautiously, glancing around at his family members. We don’t have to end the night like this, do we? The question hung in the air for a moment before Leah nodded slowly.

I think that would be good. We still have dessert waiting, and it would be a shame to waste the evening. Dad? Ellie looked to her father for confirmation.

Dan managed a small smile. Yes, I think we could all use the distraction. They helped Dan back into his wheelchair and made their way inside.

Mark and Leah headed straight for the living room, turning on the TV and scrolling through options, while Ellie went to the kitchen to retrieve the apple pie she’d baked earlier. Aldy hovered uncertainly between groups before joining his older siblings at the TV. Ethan remained by the door, the envelope still clutched in his hands.

I’m not staying, he announced. The others turned to look at him. What do you mean? Dan asked.

I’m going home, Ethan replied. I want to go through these files properly. There might be something important.

Ethan, Mark interrupted, his voice tinged with exasperation. Let it go, we’ve finally got some answers after fourteen years. It’s not what we wanted to hear, but at least now we know.

We don’t know anything, Ethan insisted. All we have is a car in a lake and a bunch of assumptions. Please stay, Ellie said quietly, just for the movie.

We can talk about all of this tomorrow when everyone’s had time to process. Ethan looked at his youngest sister, her face open and pleading, then at his father, slumped slightly in his wheelchair, looking older and more tired than he had just hours ago. For a moment he considered relenting, sitting through a movie he wouldn’t watch, pretending everything was fine while his mind raced with questions.

I’m sorry, he said finally, I need to do this. Without waiting for further objections, he stepped back through the door and walked away. He looked to his car, through the front window he could see his family gathering around the TV, settling into their usual spots.

Dan in his wheelchair positioned at the end of the couch, Ellie perched on the armrest beside him, the others spreading out across the remaining furniture. Ethan sat in his car for a moment, keys in the ignition, but engine not yet started. Where are you, mom? he whispered into the empty vehicle.

What happened to you? Did you really leave us? He wiped at his eyes, angry at the tears that threatened to fall. I was the oldest, he muttered. After dad’s accident, I was the one who had to step up.

I got a job instead of going to college right away. I helped with the kids, I did everything I could to hold us together. And now they all hate me because I won’t accept that you abandoned us.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Ethan turned on the engine and switched on the interior light. He opened the envelope again, spreading the documents across the passenger seat. This time he noticed a smaller envelope within, labelled simply miscellaneous.

Curious, he opened it to find photocopies of personal items and documents that had been recovered from the car. Among them was some kind of lease agreement, though it wasn’t clear due to the water damage, but still partially legible. Ethan stared at it in confusion.

It was dated approximately three months after his mother’s disappearance, but the name on the lease wasn’t Catherine Dawson. Instead, it bore an unfamiliar name—Elizabeth Carter. What caught Ethan’s attention, however, was the signature at the bottom of the page.

Though faded and blurry in the photocopy, he recognised his mother’s distinctive handwriting immediately. The same looping C she used to sign his school permission slips, the same swooping E that appeared in all her shopping lists. Elizabeth Carter, he whispered, staring at the signature.

Mum used a fake name. His heart racing, Ethan studied the document more carefully. There was an address listed on the lease.

Pulling out his phone, Ethan quickly typed the address into a mapping application. The satellite view showed a property located in what appeared to be an industrial zone on the outskirts of the city, miles from their home and far from any residential area. It wasn’t a house or apartment building, but what appeared to be a warehouse or storage facility in an area dominated by similar industrial buildings.

This doesn’t make sense, he murmured. Why would mum rent a warehouse under a false name? Then he noticed something else on the lease—the name Raymond Doss. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Ethan couldn’t immediately place it.

He typed it into a search engine, and the results made his blood run cold. Multiple news articles appeared, dating back years. Local businessman Raymond Doss questioned in money laundering investigation.

Doss cleared of fraud charges due to lack of evidence. Raymond Doss properties linked to illegal loan operations. Ethan read through several of the articles, piecing together a picture of a man who operated on the fringes of legality.

Someone involved in predatory lending practices and other questionable business dealings that law enforcement had never quite been able to prove. He looked back at the house, where through the window he could see his family watching the movie together. For a moment he considered going back inside, showing them what he’d found, but he knew they wouldn’t listen.

They’d made up their minds about what happened to their mother, and no lease agreement or suspicious landlord would change that. I’ll do this myself, Ethan decided, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway. Rather than heading toward his own apartment, he pointed the car in the direction of the address on the lease agreement, determined to find out what connection his mother had to Raymond Doss and why she would rent a warehouse under a false name.

The GPS guided Ethan through streets that gradually gave way to less maintained roads as he approached the industrial district. Streetlights became scarcer, and the buildings more dilapidated, abandoned factories with broken windows, storage facilities surrounded by chain-link fences topped with razor wire, and the occasional all-night truck stop casting pools of harsh fluorescent light onto empty parking lots. After twenty minutes of driving, the GPS announced that he had reached his destination.

Ethan slowed the car, peering through the windshield at a weathered single-story building set back from the road. A faded sign hung askew above the entrance, quality furniture refurbishing. Ethan pulled into the gravel lot, parking a short distance from the building.

The place appeared to be operational, but barely. A dim light glowed from within, and an old pick-up truck was parked by a side entrance. As his headlights illuminated the façade, he could see that the windows were covered from the inside, preventing any view of the interior.

He cut the engine but remained in the car, considering his next move. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, hadn’t thought about what he would do when he actually found the place. It was nearly ten p.m. now, and he doubted anyone would be working this late, yet there was clearly someone inside…