The class of ’99 disappeared during their senior trip, and now, 22 years later, a shocking find comes to light…

His long, disheveled hair clung to his face as if he hadn’t combed it in years, and his eyes, sunken with exhaustion, darted nervously around the room. The officers, who had been caught up in their own discussion about the bus discovery, fell silent when they saw him. The man didn’t seem to notice the sudden shift in the air.

He approached the desk slowly, almost methodically, before leaning forward, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. I’m Jarrett Fields, from a class of 1999. For a moment, no one moved.

The words hung in the air, charged with the weight of twenty-two years of unanswered questions. The officers exchanged confused glances, as if waiting for a punchline, but none came. This couldn’t be real, could it? The last time anyone had heard Jarrett Fields’ name was when he, along with the rest of his senior class, had vanished during their graduation trip.

No body had ever been found, no trace. One of the officers, Sergeant Emily Wells, stepped forward cautiously. Mr. Fields, can we… can we get your identification? Jarrett didn’t respond.

Instead, his eyes flicked nervously around the room, like someone who was constantly looking over his shoulder. I was never supposed to come back, he mumbled, his voice trembling. They’re still watching.

A chill ran down Sergeant Wells’ spine. Who’s watching, Mr. Fields? she asked, her voice tight with suspicion. Jarrett shook his head, as though trying to shake off the thoughts that clung to him, like a heavy fog.

I don’t know. I don’t know. I was never supposed to come back.

None of us were. He sounded less like a man who had simply survived something tragic, and more like someone who had been forced to survive, like someone who had been marked by something dark and unnatural. Sergeant Wells’ patience began to wear thin.

She needed answers. They all needed answers. Mr. Fields, we need you to tell us where you’ve been all these years.

We need to know what happened to your friends, to the other students. Jarrett’s eyes flickered nervously. He glanced toward the door, as if he feared someone might be listening.

I can’t. Not yet. Not until I… He stopped, swallowing hard, as though the words themselves were poison in his throat.

But before anyone could press further, a forensic technician entered the room with a report. The officer handed it over to Sergeant Wells. She read it quickly, her brow furrowing in disbelief.

Jarrett Fields, your fingerprints match. Your DNA, it’s a match. For the first time since entering the station, Jarrett looked up, his eyes wide, like a man who had just been handed a death sentence.

I told you, he whispered. I told you I was never supposed to come back. I shouldn’t have come back.

The officers watched him in stunned silence, trying to make sense of his words. They had been expecting a man who would explain the mystery, who would give them answers. Answers to the vanishing, to the school bus, to the bones.

But instead, they had a man who seemed more like a puzzle, a man whose presence only deepened the mystery. Mr. Fields, what do you mean by you shouldn’t have come back? Sergeant Wells pressed, her voice calm but insistent. Where were you for all these years? Where did you go? What happened to your classmates? Jarrett’s face twisted in terror.

He stepped back from the desk, as though trying to distance himself from the question, from everything. I can’t. I can’t say.

Not yet. They’re still out there. They won’t stop watching until it’s all over.

A cold, unnerving silence filled the room. The officers glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. The man they had hoped would offer them closure, would tell them the truth, was now trembling with fear.

And then, just as quickly as he’d arrived, Jarrett Fields turned and walked toward the door. I can’t stay here, he said. They’ll find me if I stay here.

Sergeant Wells rushed to stop him. Mr. Fields, please, you have to. But before she could finish, he was gone.

The door slammed behind him, and the officers were left with only more questions than before. They now had a living witness, Jarrett Fields, the only one who could explain what happened to the class of 1999. But whatever had happened to Jarrett, whatever had happened to the others, was far from over.

The nightmare wasn’t finished. It had only just begun. A few days later, Jarrett is sitting across from the investigators, his eyes wide with terror, a haunted look that hadn’t faded in years.

The room was silent, the air thick with anticipation. The last two hours had been spent in painstaking detail, going over his timeline, his memories, his recollections of the last time he’d seen his classmates. But now, at this pivotal moment, he was now about to tell them everything…