With trembling hands, Margaret slid the note free. The writing was sharp, hurried. “Leaving soon. Don’t wait up.—D, 03 Mar 1985.” That was all. There was no name or explanation. Just that single line, a whisper left behind for someone who never found it.
Margaret lifted the film canister and the folded note with careful fingers. Ken crossed his arms. “You want me to call this in? Police, maybe? Could be nothing, could be trouble.” Margaret hesitated, then shook her head quickly. “No… no police. I’ll just hang on to it for now.”