My sister vanished without a trace fifteen years ago. Just like that—gone. No note, no evidence, no answers. The last connection I had with her was a missed call. She rang me minutes before she disappeared, but I didn’t pick up. I was busy. I thought I could call back later. Two nights ago, I boarded a late-night train after a long day. The kind of ride where your mind wanders and every stranger looks a little familiar in the dim lighting. As I settled into my seat, I glanced across the aisle—and froze. There was a girl sitting there,

half-hidden under a hoodie. She looked up as I did. Our eyes met. It was her. Same green-gray eyes. Same tiny scar just under her jawline from a childhood fall. Her face hadn’t changed much, though it carried a quiet weight. She didn’t look surprised. If anything, she looked… resigned. Like she knew this was coming,