Willy moved carefully over the next two days, his outward routine unchanged. He ate in the common area, exchanged polite words with the guards, and forced himself to sit at his desk, phone in hand, though he rarely opened any of the apps. Inside, though, the tension was unbearable, like a taut string on the verge of snapping.
He needed answers. Not from the head of security, not from guards who spoke in half-truths, but from someone who would understand why this mattered. Someone who knew Tim beyond his role.
This person was Nora.
She wasn't family, not in the official sense, but she had grown up close to Tim, trusted him like a brother. If anyone could find out where Tim was, it would be her.
That night, long after the halls had quieted and the corridors were empty, Willy typed out a message. His thumb hovered over the screen, hesitation making his chest tighten, before he finally pressed send:
Willy: Nora, have you heard from Tim? It's been too long. I've texted, but I haven't heard back yet. Please, if you know anything, tell me.
The reply came quicker than he expected, the phone buzzing less than a day later.
Nora: I haven't heard from him either. Not directly. I thought he was still on assignment. I'll ask my father. If he knows something, he'll tell me. Wait for me, I'll update you.
Willy read the message three times, his stomach sinking with each pass. Nora hadn't heard from him. That wasn't right. Tim always kept her in the loop, if not with details, then at least with the reassurance that he was safe.
The hours dragged as Willy waited for her next text. He barely slept, checking his phone every few minutes, half-expecting a new notification with news, half-fearing the silence would stretch forever. When Nora finally messaged again, late in the evening, his hands shook as he unlocked the screen.
Nora: I talked to my father. He says Tim isn't with them. He was supposed to check in days ago, but he hasn't. They don't know where he is. I'm sorry.
The words blurred as Willy stared at them. He gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles ached. Tim wasn't with them. He was missing.
The thought lodged deep in his chest, heavy and suffocating. If Nora's father didn't know where Tim was, then no one did.
And that meant whatever had happened to him wasn't just distance or caution. It was something else. Something worse.
Willy forced himself to breathe, to steady his trembling hands. Panic wouldn't help him now. He needed clarity, focus.
The silence wasn't accidental. The parcels, the strange handwriting, the missing replies it was all connected. Someone was controlling the flow of what reached him, deciding what he could and couldn't know. And if Tim was truly missing, then that meant the silence wasn't just about secrecy anymore.
It was about keeping him in the dark.
That night, Willy sat at his desk once more, his phone resting on the blank page of his notebook. This time, he didn't type another message to Tim. He began to plan. If they thought he would simply wait and worry, they were wrong.
Because now, the only way forward was to find Tim himself.
The New Year was approaching, but Willყ was in no mood to celebrate. The corridors were strung with lights, faint strands of color trying to imitate warmth, yet to him they only made the shadows feel sharper. In the common hall, laughter spilled from groups gathered around steaming cups and makeshift decorations, but Willყ stayed away. He avoided his family members, too. Their endless questions, their polite attempts to draw him into the festivities. He had no energy for any of it. They were the least likely to fight, but also the least likely to understand.
Everywhere he turned, the world seemed to be moving forward, while he stood trapped in place, waiting for a reply that never came. His phone lay heavy in his pocket, silent, its black screen a constant reminder of absence. Days had passed since Nora's last message confirming the worst, that even her father didn't know where Tim was. Each time Willy checked for updates, he felt the same dull ache of disappointment. No new messages. No news.
He tried distracting himself, but the air around him only felt heavier with each hour. Memories crowded him instead of Tim's half-smile when he teased him for worrying too much, the sound of his voice in the quiet moments before sleep, the weight of his presence beside him that made everything feel grounded. Now, all of that was silence.
Snow began to fall that evening, dusting the windowsills and muting the sound of footsteps outside. Willy sat alone at his desk, staring out at the white flakes spinning in the glow of the streetlamps. The world looked softer, but he felt no softness within him. Just the gnawing quiet, the unanswered questions, and the fear that grew sharper as midnight drew closer.
There were only a few minutes left until the New Year. The celebrations had reached their peak. muffled cheers and bursts of music floated through the walls. Will didn't move. He didn't count down the minutes. He didn't even bother pretending to hope for change. If Tim were gone, no calendar could reset that.
Still, the ache in his chest tightened as the seconds crawled by. He thought of the last words he'd sent, of the fragile belief he had clung to that Tim would always find a way to answer. Maybe he had been foolish to hope.
Then, suddenly, his phone buzzed.
The sharp vibration startled him so badly that he nearly dropped it. His first thought was Nora, maybe with more news, but the number flashing on the screen was unfamiliar. Unknown.
His heart lurched into his throat. Every instinct told him to hesitate, to be cautious. But he couldn't. His thumb hit accept before doubt could catch up.
"Hello?" His voice cracked, breathless.
For a heartbeat, there was only static, the faint hum of a line connecting across distance. Then...
"Willy."
He froze. His knees nearly buckled beneath him. It was a voice he knew better than his own heartbeat.
Tim.
The sound was rough, strained, but unmistakable. Relief and terror tangled inside him all at once. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't find words. He pressed the phone harder against his ear, afraid that if he blinked, if he moved too much, the voice would vanish like a dream.
"Tim," he whispered, the word catching in his throat.
Snow continued to fall outside, muffling the cheers of the crowd as midnight struck. Fireworks lit the sky in bursts of color, but Willy saw none of it. For him, the new year had already begun not with the world's countdown, but with the return of the only voice he had been waiting to hear.