META'S POV:
It's been three days since Thyme vanished without a trace, and with each passing hour, the knot of unease in my stomach tightened into a cold, hard stone. Three days. Seventy-two hours. An unacceptable deviation from the norm. The day I had finally gathered the courage to announce our mutual understanding—a fragile, unspoken promise to be more than just friends—was the day he disappeared. No one had heard from him. Not even his closest friends, Dom and Lance.
I had done the logical thing and reported him missing to the police, but within an hour, his family had called them, stating he was not missing and was simply "away on a personal matter." Why couldn't we contact him, then? The official story was a flimsy construct, riddled with inconsistencies. It didn't add up.
I had tried to get answers from Dom, who was as lost as I was. He gave me Thyme's home address but confirmed Thyme was never there. Ratchanee, his sister, was just as worried, Dom said, but she hadn't given an explanation for their parents' behavior. The conflicting information was a puzzle, and my mind, trained to find patterns in chaos, couldn't let it go. So, I decided to go to the source.
I pulled my car up in front of their house. "House" felt like a gross understatement. It was a sprawling, opulent mansion surrounded by high walls and a manicured garden that looked like it was maintained by a small army. A stark contrast to the unassuming, down-to-earth person Thyme was. It was my first solid clue: Thyme came from money, and for some reason, he had hidden it. I was still sitting in my car, staring at the intimidating gate, hesitating to ring the doorbell, when a sudden rap on the window startled me.
"KNOCK KNOCK."
My head snapped to the side. A woman was standing there, a familiar face I hadn't expected to see. It was Ratchanee. I hadn't seen her since high school; she was a year younger than me. But there was no mistaking her. My memory instantly pulled up the fragmented images of us from the past, the memories that had convinced me that Thyme and I were connected long before this timeline. Seeing her now, real and in the flesh, was proof. It solidified my conviction that I wasn't just imagining things.
"P'Meta, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice bright and full of genuine surprise. A wave of nostalgia, a distant flicker of our past friendship, seemed to radiate from her.
I lowered the window, my mind immediately shifting into a more analytical mode. I needed information. "I came to see if Thyme was here. It's been three days since anyone has been able to reach him. I'm worried about him; he hasn't even been to the university." I stated it plainly, watching her expression.
Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine worry. "Oh. P'Dom already asked me about that, but I have no idea where he is either. I've been worried sick about him. He's been… distant from my family for a while now. He didn't even come to my last birthday."
"Is it normal for Thyme to cut off contact for days?" I asked, my tone even. Her words didn't sit right with me. Something was off.
She shrugged, her hands fidgeting at her sides. "Yes, it's actually pretty normal. There was a time he cut off contact for an entire month. So, while I'm worried, you could say I'm used to it."
Her nonchalant answer was a red flag. "I don't mean to be rude, but what do you mean by 'distant'?" I asked, my gaze unwavering. I noticed her expression become guarded, a hesitation in her eyes. Was she annoyed? Or was she just being careful with her words because she didn't know me well?
She finally sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. "Honestly, Mom and Thyme have had a lot of conflicts. That's why he prefers to stay in his dorm rather than at home." The careful, almost robotic way she said it told me everything I needed to know. She was trying to protect both Thyme and her mother, not wanting to air their dirty laundry to a stranger.
"Thank you for telling me," I said, already starting to put the car in reverse. "I'll be going now."
"Wait, Phi!" She reached out and placed a hand on the car door. "I mean, P'Meta. Don't you want to come inside for a drink? It would be rude of me to just let you leave." Her voice was a mix of polite obligation and childlike hope. I was on a mission, but this could be an opportunity. There might be clues inside.
"I don't mind," I said, stepping out of the car.
Ratchanee's face lit up. "Okay! Let me open the gate so you can park inside." She scurried off, her energy like a child's. As I drove the car into the compound, my eyes scanned the grounds. The sprawling estate had a huge garden and a parking area that could hold ten cars. My gaze, however, was drawn to a small, isolated house near the back wall. It was a peculiar building, one that looked too clean to be a typical storage room.
"Let's go inside, Phi!" Ratchanee called out excitedly from the front door.
I followed her, my mind already working on the puzzle. My internal monologue was already a list of questions: What was the real reason for the conflict between Thyme and his mother? And why was Thyme's sister acting so happy when her brother was missing?
"Please, take a seat wherever you like," she said, gesturing to the lavish living room. "What would you like to drink? Coffee, tea, iced tea, juice, or soda?"
"Iced tea, please," I replied, taking a seat on a plush velvet sofa.
"Okay! Just wait here," she said, and disappeared into the kitchen. I looked around, my mind comparing this house to mine. The size and decor were almost identical. Was it possible that the conflict with his mother was related to our relationship? No, I reasoned, that didn't make sense. If they knew, Thyme would have known as well, and his reaction when I confessed my feelings was one of genuine surprise.
"Here is your iced tea, Phi!" she said, placing a glass in front of me with a flourish, as if she were a contestant on a cooking show.
I took a slow sip, tasting the blend of green tea, lemon, honey, and vanilla she had used. "It tastes good," I said, a forced smile on my face. I had to maintain a friendly facade.
"That's great! I personally made the green tea myself!" she beamed, clearly fishing for more praise. The conversation was a distraction, and my mind was already looking for a way out.
"By the way, Phi," she began, leaning forward with sparkling eyes. "How did you and my brother become a couple?"
The question hit me like a physical blow, and I choked on my iced tea. I sputtered, coughing a few times, my composure momentarily lost. "Uhmm..." I struggled for a response, my mind a jumble of thoughts. She knew. How could she know?
Before I could answer, her phone rang, and she jumped up. "Sorry, Phi, I need to take this!" She left the room to answer it, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My eyes drifted to the walls, covered with large, expensive portraits. A beautiful woman, an older man, a smiling girl—Ratchanee—and a younger boy who I didn't recognize. I noticed the glaring omission immediately. There was no picture of Thyme. Not a single one. This wasn't a family who had a minor conflict with their son. This was a family that had deliberately tried to erase him.
I glanced out the window again, my eyes locking on the small, strange house in the garden. I had an overwhelming urge to go inside and investigate. I stood up, walked to the window, and studied the building. It had a window of its own, with curtains. Storage rooms don't have curtains. The windowpane, I noticed, was slightly cleaner than the rest of the building's exterior, as if someone had been wiping it recently. Someone was living there, or had been.
I decided to investigate. I walked outside, my footsteps silent on the grass. I approached the small house and knocked softly. "Hello? Is anyone inside?" I called out, but only the silence answered. I grabbed the door handle and it turned easily. It wasn't locked. But before I could push the door open, a voice from behind me made me freeze.
"Phi, what are you doing there?" Ratchanee asked.
I turned around slowly. For a split second, I saw pure, unadulterated panic in her eyes, but it was replaced instantly by a worried, polite expression. Her performance was a poor one.
"Sorry," I said, dropping the doorknob and walking toward her, feigning a bashful grin. "I saw this room from the window and got curious."
"Oh! It's fine," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I thought you had left, but then I saw your car was still here and came to look for you."
"Sorry for not informing you," I said, forcing a laugh. "I was actually just looking for you to tell you I was curious about this room." I had to play along.
"Ah, that room," she said, her voice now filled with a strange, rehearsed cheerfulness. "It's been so long since anyone used it. I'm afraid you might get a dust allergy. It's full of dust."
I wasn't convinced. The window was clean. The look of panic in her eyes was real. She was lying. "Thank you for stopping me," I said, forcing a theatrical cough and a gasp for air. "I actually have an extreme allergy to dust. I would have been doomed if I accidentally opened it." I watched her face, and her feigned panic seemed to turn into genuine worry. My lie had worked. She had let her guard down.
"Oh, no! I was just making stuff up, but you actually have an allergy? I'm so sorry, Phi!" she said, grabbing my arm.
"It's fine," I said, gently pulling my arm away. "I think I really should leave now. I have some other stuff I need to do." I said politely, but she looked at me sadly, almost pleadingly.
"I was hoping to get information about you and my brother's relationship," she said, the bubbly facade now completely gone. "He never told me anything."
Her sincerity was a new clue, but I didn't have time to process it. My mind was already racing with a plan. I'd come back later. This house was hiding something. And I'd find out what it was. "I have to go," I said, and went towards my car. I drove away, but I knew I would be back. My investigation had just begun.