"I've searched the area," the younger officer says, voice low, eyes dark under the flickering streetlight. "There's no sign of your parents."
He couldn't, what?
The air turns sharp and thin. My chest compresses. I can't swallow.
Behind him, the older cop, bald with a drooping brow, folds his arms.
"We didn't find anything either," he adds. "The woods are clear. No blood, no trail. It's like they vanished."
Vanished.
That word punches straight through me.
"That's not possible," I whisper, my voice cracking.
"Listen, kid," the older officer says with a sigh. "Sometimes trauma makes people remember things wrong. You've been through a lot tonight. Try to stay calm and let us handle it."
Kid?
"I'm not confused!" I yelled. "I saw it! Some guy—he bit my mom and dragged her off—he—!"
"Okay, okay," the younger cop cuts in quickly. "We believe you saw something. But we need to approach this rationally. You're young. You just experienced a serious shock. Things can seem distorted."
"I know what I saw," I snap, stepping back. "Stop talking to me like I'm stupid!"
They exchange glances. The older one mumbles something under his breath, like "Here we go…"
"You're not stupid," the younger one says carefully, like he's trying to calm a dog. "Again, you're young. There's a difference. And right now, the best thing you can do is let us professionals assess the situation."
"You keep saying 'situation' like it's a glitch or something! My parents are missing. My mom was attacked! What part of that don't you get?"
"And what part of protocol don't you get?" the older cop shoots back, voice sharp. "You're seventeen. You shouldn't even be out here alone this late. You can't just start screaming accusations and expect things to move at your pace."
"You should be with a guardian right now, not waving your phone around and trying to post all over social media," the younger one adds. "If panic spreads because of misinformation—"
"Misinformation?! I was there!"
My hands are shaking so hard, I almost drop my phone. I feel like I'm slipping into a void no one else can see. These guys don't care. They're not listening. They're talking around me.
I clench my jaw, breathing hard. "If you're not going to help me, I'll find someone who will."
"We are helping you," the younger officer says, stepping closer. "But this isn't a movie. You don't get to charge into the woods looking for revenge or play detective. You're a teenager. Your job is to stay safe while we handle it."
"Then handle it!" I yell. "Why are we just standing here?!"
The older officer sighs again and rubs his temple.
"I get that you're scared, alright? But you need to understand we're doing everything we can. We've called for backup, we've sealed off the road and we're logging this with the district. That's what we do. Not running around chasing shadows."
"Shadows? Are you serious—"
"Enough," the younger officer says, firmer now. "We're taking you to the station. You'll stay there until we get your guardians involved. You've done your part by giving us your statement. Let us take it from here."
I froze.
Done my part? My parents are still gone and my best friend Daizen still isn't replying. I'm not even sure if the text went through anymore.
Everything feels like it's unraveling.
"We'll notify child services if we can't reach your relatives," the older one mutters. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, kid."
The way he says kid makes me want to scream.
I grit my teeth. My fists clench so tight my knuckles crack, but there's no one else here. Just two grown men with badges and tired faces, who've already decided I'm fragile, hysterical, and wrong.
One of them gently places a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, but don't pull away.
"Come on," he says. "It's cold. You've been through enough. Let's go get you somewhere warm."
I didn't move.
I glance back at the car. My mom's scarf still hanging over the seatbelt. My dad's phone charger dangling. Her scent, still faint in the air.
They were here. They were just here and now they're gone.
My legs feel like lead. But I let them guide me away.