They recovered what they could from her backpack. It was torn to ribbons, everything inside ruined by water. They kept it all as evidence, but we knew it was useless. She'd disappeared into the hills around the bay with that man and I knew we'd never see her again.

Not like I didn't mourn. We all did. A traditional burial. Mom wanted an urn for the churchyard but Grandpa was firm. We held the funeral on the third day after they found the backpack, people came. No eulogy for Donna. It's tradition. I said something quiet under my breath and that was that.

She would've been 33 by the time I entered medical school. Fifteen years without my sister. Funny how you get used to it. We just didn't talk about her anymore.

And then suddenly we did again. When that man turned up dead and they found him on the trail where they lost her. When they pulled me aside and asked if I knew anything. And when I asked if I could help and they said yes.

https://thecoffin.club