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

As he debated whether to approach the building or return in the daylight, a figure emerged from a side door. An older man carrying a steaming cup in a plastic container. The man noticed Ethan’s car immediately, and began walking toward it with a measured, deliberate pace.

Ethan’s instinct was to drive away, but something told him this might be his only chance to learn something about this place and its connection to his mother. He rolled down his window as the man approached. The security guard, for that seemed to be his role, was older than Ethan had initially thought, perhaps in his early sixties, but moved with the confidence and strength of someone much younger.

Despite the late hour and cool temperature, he wore only a light jacket over a uniform shirt with no company logo. His face was weathered but alert, eyes sharp as they assessed Ethan. Evening, the man said, his voice surprisingly genial.

You lost? Not many folks find themselves out here this time of night unless they took a wrong turn. Ethan hesitated, rapidly calculating his approach. The truth seemed too risky.

He couldn’t just announce he was investigating his long-missing mother’s connection to this place. Instead, he opted for a plausible lie. I think you were right, I might have missed a turn, Ethan replied with forced casualness.

But as I was driving by, I noticed this place. You see, I run a small business, and I’ve been looking for warehouse space in the area. I know it’s late, but I saw the light on and thought I’d check it out.

The guard took a sip of his coffee, studying Ethan over the rim of the cup. This ain’t for sale, if that’s what you’re wondering. Who owns it? Ethan asked, trying to sound merely curious.

Harvey Doss, the guard replied. Ethan’s heart skipped a beat at the familiar surname. Harvey Doss? I don’t think I’ve heard of him.

The guard raised an eyebrow. Son of Raymond Doss? You never heard of Raymond Doss? Ethan shook his head, feigning ignorance. Should I have? Raymond owned half the industrial property in this area, the guard explained.

Passed away a few years back. His son Harvey took over the business. I see, Ethan said, mind racing.

Is there any way to get in touch with Harvey? If not to buy the place, maybe to discuss renting part of it? The guard chuckled. Harvey’s a private man, doesn’t deal directly with folks, especially not those who show up unannounced after hours. Is there someone else I could talk to, then? A manager or representative, perhaps, tomorrow? The guard seemed to consider this for a moment.

Tell you what, come back tomorrow during business hours. Ask for Ronald. He handles Harvey’s affairs here.

Ronald, Ethan repeated, committing the name to memory. He’ll definitely be here tomorrow. I reports to him, and I got his number.

I can let him know tonight that someone’s interested. That would be great, Ethan said, deliberately not offering his own number. I’ll just stop by tomorrow.

The guard nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. Ronald likes to conduct business face to face. Just so you know, he doesn’t appreciate folks bringing outsiders or partners to these initial meetings.

Likes to size people up one-on-one first. I understand, Ethan replied. I’ll come alone.

He was about to roll his window back up when a thought struck him. If he left now, he’d have learned nothing concrete, just confirmed that the Doss family still owned the property. Taking a calculated risk, he called out to the guard who had already begun walking away.

One more thing, he said. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a woman named Elizabeth Carter around this area. The effect was immediate and dramatic.

The guard’s entire demeanor changed, his shoulders stiffening and face hardening into an expressionless mask. The affable security man vanished, replaced by someone much more dangerous. You need to leave, he said flatly, all pretense of friendliness gone.

Now. Ethan, realizing he’d overplayed his hand but unwilling to retreat entirely, pressed further. I just need to know if— The guard moved with surprising speed, closing the distance to the car in two long strides.

He placed his weathered hands on the edge of Ethan’s partially open window and leaned in, his face inches from Ethan’s. You want ghosts? he asked, his voice low and menacing. You’re in the right place.

She didn’t want to be found. A chill ran down Ethan’s spine. What do you mean? he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Who didn’t want to be found? The guard straightened up, wrapping his knuckles against the door frame. If you want to talk about that too, come see Ronald tomorrow, but I’d advise against it. He knocked on the car frame once more.

You’d better go now. Ethan hesitated only briefly before putting the car in reverse. He backed away slowly, watching as the guard remained standing in the same spot, tracking him with cold eyes, until Ethan turned the car around and drove away.

His mind was racing as he navigated back toward the town. The guard had clearly recognized Elizabeth Carter, his mother’s fake name, and his reaction confirmed that Elizabeth, or Catherine, had some connection to this place. But what did he mean about ghosts, and why would he say she didn’t want to be found, if not to confirm that his mother had disappeared voluntarily? None of it made sense, yet for the first time in fourteen years, Ethan felt he was finally on the trail of something real, something that might explain what had happened to his mother.

The dashboard clock read 11.35 p.m. as Ethan drove back toward the town, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of questions and theories. The implications seemed to support what his siblings believed, that their mother had chosen to disappear. But something about the guard’s reaction, the sudden shift from friendly to threatening, suggested there was more to the story than a woman simply walking away from her life.

Ethan knew he should share what he’d discovered with his family, but after their reaction at dinner and the lake, he doubted they would listen. They had made peace, in their own ways, with their mother’s abandonment. Mark had become the practical, responsible one, Leah had hardened herself against further disappointment, Ellie had channeled her energy into caring for their father, and Aldy, who had been barely a year old when Catherine disappeared, had never really known her at all…