Their daughter vanished in 1990 at her graduation…

John parked across the street at a distance, observing the house. The gates were open, and as he watched, a man emerged from the front door with a woman. Even from this distance, John recognized an older version of the boy from the yearbook.

Steven Larson, now in his mid-forties, still handsome, with the confidence of someone accustomed to success. Steven walked the woman to her car, kissed her cheek, and waved as she drove off. As he turned to head back inside, his gaze swept across the street and landed on John’s car.

John realized too late that his car’s windows weren’t tinted, leaving him clearly visible. Steven’s posture shifted, becoming alert and suspicious. John decided there was no point in hiding.

He turned off the engine, stepped out, and approached the gate. “Good afternoon!” John called, trying to sound casual. “Steven Larson, right?” Steven didn’t return the friendly tone.

“Who are you, and why are you watching my house?” he demanded, his tone instantly hostile. “You a journalist? Reporter?” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” John said, stopping at a respectful distance. “I’m John Peterson. Mary Peterson’s father. She was in your graduating class and went missing 22 years ago.” Steven’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing.

“What do you want?” John was taken aback by the coldness of Steven’s response. “I heard you had a class reunion here last weekend. I’m just trying to piece together some things about my daughter. I was told you might have been close to her at some point.” “Who told you that? Emily?” Steven’s voice was sharp. “She didn’t even show up to the reunion.”

John tried to keep his tone calm. “I’m not looking for trouble, just answers. It’s been 22 years, and we still don’t know what happened to her. Why are you asking me?” Steven responded defensively. “I was never her boyfriend, never attached to her. I told the police that back then, and I don’t like being questioned about it again.”

John was puzzled by the intensity of Steven’s reaction. “I didn’t say you were her boyfriend. I just heard you were close at some point. If we talked in school, it was probably because I borrowed money from her or asked for help with homework,” Steven said dismissively. “I always paid back what I took. There were never any issues between us. I told the police everything back then.” Despite his casual words, John noticed Steven’s body language growing tenser. He shifted his weight, his eyes darting as if checking for onlookers.

“I don’t get why you’re showing up at my house with these questions,” Steven continued. “I have a reputation to maintain now. I don’t want some reporter or people seeing us together and starting rumors.”

Before John could respond, Steven turned and strode back toward the house. “You’d better leave,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ve got nothing more to say about Mary.”

John stood stunned by the exchange. Steven’s reaction seemed disproportionate to his simple question. Why would a successful businessman be so defensive about a brief high school friendship from over two decades ago? As Steven disappeared inside, John slowly returned to his car.

His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the steering wheel. He felt foolish and ashamed for coming here, for pushing when Nancy had asked him to let the past go. “What was I thinking?” he muttered to himself.

“I promised Nancy we’d close this chapter today, not reopen old wounds.” He started the car, glancing one last time at Steven’s house before driving away. If Nancy found out he’d come here instead of helping clean up at home, she’d be hurt and angry.

John had let himself slip back into the whirlpool of questions and possibilities that consumed the early years after Mary’s disappearance. Driving back to town, John tried to convince himself to let it go. Steven’s hostility was probably just irritation at having his Sunday interrupted by a reminder of a tragic event from his youth.

Anyone would feel uneasy being questioned about a missing person case after so long. But something about Steven’s defensiveness gnawed at John. It felt excessive, almost panicked.

Was it just surprise at the unexpected conversation? Or was there more? John shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the road. He’d promised Nancy they’d move forward today. He needed to keep that promise and stop chasing ghosts.

Driving back to town, John kept replaying the odd encounter with Steven Larson. The man’s hostility was unexpected and unsettling. John knew he should head home to his wife, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d stumbled onto something significant.

Almost unconsciously, he turned toward the town’s memorial funeral home. If he and Nancy were truly going to close this chapter of their lives, perhaps it was time to consider a formal memorial service for Mary, even without a body to bury. The funeral home was quiet when John entered.

A kind woman at the desk greeted him and, after hearing his purpose, provided brochures detailing services and costs. John thanked her and returned to his car with the brochures in hand. As he opened the car door, he noticed movement across the street…