In His Footsteps part 1

The small town of Evergreen was a collection of cracked sidewalks, faded shop signs, and houses too old to remember the hands that built them. It was the kind of place where everyone had an opinion about everyone else, and yet, when someone vanished, the town closed its collective mouth. Silence was easier than questions, and questions rarely had answers in Evergreen.

For Justine Malone, the town itself had become a suffocating reminder of what she’d lost. She had lived her entire life in Evergreen, as had her parents and grandparents. It was a place she had always believed would be her home, but that was before Adrian. Before he’d walked out the door with his backpack slung over one shoulder, promising he’d be back by morning.

That morning had been three years ago.

Justine still kept the porch light on at night, an old habit her mother had instilled when she was young. “The light tells them they have a place to come back to,” her mother had said. But the light had grown dim, the bulb flickering now and then, as if it too doubted its purpose.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

The first six months after Adrian's disappearance were a blur of restless nights and unanswered phone calls. Justine had filed a missing persons report, printed flyers, and walked the length of Evergreen more times than she could count, asking anyone if they had seen him. The responses had all been the same — shrugs, pitying glances, and awkward silence.

“He’ll come back when he’s ready,” her father had said during one of their rare phone calls. Her mother, on the other hand, had offered no words of comfort, only a quiet, resigned sigh that seemed to echo her own guilt. Adrian had always been Justine's shadow, and if anyone had noticed he was slipping away, it should have been her.

But how could she have known? He had smiled that morning. He had kissed her on the forehead and told her to water the houseplants because he always forgot. And then he was gone.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Three years later, Justine sat at the window of her small kitchen, a mug of cold coffee cradled between her hands. The view outside hadn’t changed — a sagging picket fence, an overgrown lawn, and the rusted mailbox where Adrian's postcards used to arrive.

The postcards had started when he turned eighteen, each one bearing the name of a city she had only read about in books. San Francisco. Portland. Austin. The last one had come from Denver, a month before he vanished. It had been brief, a handful of words scrawled in his hurried script- Wish you were here. See you soon.

The postcards had been her tether to him, a reassurance that no matter how far he wandered, he would always come back. When they stopped, it was as if a thread had snapped inside her, leaving her untethered, adrift.

She took a sip of the coffee, wincing at its bitterness. She had stopped adding sugar to it a long time ago, telling herself it was a small way to punish herself for not seeing the signs. For not stopping him.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

It was during one of her nightly walks through town that Justine first saw the stranger. He stood at the edge of the park, his silhouette partially obscured by the weak glow of a flickering streetlamp. Tall and broad-shouldered, he hunched slightly against the cold, a worn hat pulled low over his face. Something about him seemed off — too still, too deliberate — yet faintly familiar in a way that made her stomach tighten.

Justine hesitated, her breath visible in the crisp night air. She wasn’t the type to approach strangers, but the way he stood there, watching the empty street, gnawed at her. There was something in the set of his shoulders, the way his head tilted as if he were listening to something she couldn’t hear, that tugged at her memory.

“Excuse me,” she called out before she could stop herself. Her voice wavered, thin and uncertain. The man turned slowly, his movements unhurried, almost deliberate. When he looked at her, the streetlamp caught his eyes — a pale, piercing green that sent a chill through her. They weren’t Adrian’s eyes, but they were close enough to make her breath catch.

“Can I help you?” he asked. His voice was low, gravelly, and disarming. He studied her with an intensity that made her feel both seen and invisible at once.

“I—” Justine faltered, her hands fidgeting in the pockets of her coat. “I thought you were someone else. My brother. He’s been missing.”

The man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hat. “Missing, huh? That’s rough.” He paused, and Justine thought he might turn away. But instead, he lingered, his eyes narrowing. “What’s his name?”

“Adrian Malone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickered across his face — recognition, maybe, or something more opaque. His lips pressed into a thin line as he repeated the name, as if testing it on his tongue. “Adrian,” he said. “Yeah, I think I might’ve met someone by that name. Out west, a couple of years ago.”

Justine’s heart leapt. “Where? What did he look like?”

The man hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t remember much,” he said finally. “Just the name. Sorry.”

Her heart sank, disappointment crashing over her like a wave. “Thanks anyway,” she muttered, already turning to leave.

“Wait,” he called after her. His voice was sharper now, edged with something she couldn’t name. “Why’s he missing? Did he run off, or…?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and invasive. Justine froze, her pulse quickening. “Why do you want to know?” she asked, her voice defensive.

The man shrugged, his mouth curling into a faint, humorless smile. “Just curious. People don’t go missing without a reason.”

For a moment, Justine considered pressing him, demanding to know what he wasn’t telling her. But something in his gaze — a shadow of knowing, of withheld truths — warned her against it. Instead, she shook her head and walked away, the weight of his words settling uneasily in her chest.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

In the days that followed, the stranger’s cryptic presence haunted her. His words echoed in her mind- People don’t go missing without a reason. She replayed the encounter over and over, dissecting the way he had hesitated, the way he had repeated Adrian’s name like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

She began combing through old maps and travel guides, piecing together the places Adrian had written to her about. San Francisco. Portland. Denver. The man hadn’t given her much, but he had given her something — a direction. It was more than she had had in years.

Justine spent weeks planning, saving every spare dollar she could scrape together. She quit her part-time job at the diner, sold what little furniture she had, and packed her belongings into the backseat of her aging sedan. The town watched her leave with quiet curiosity, but no one stopped her. No one ever did in Evergreen.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Later in her journey, Justine encounters people who recall meeting Adrian — but a pattern emerges. Each time she describes the man in the park, someone reacts oddly. A bartender in Portland stiffens when she mentions him. A street musician in Denver claims he’s seen Adrian but says something cryptic- “There was a guy who used to hang around him. Big guy, green eyes. Didn’t trust him. Felt like he was watching more than talking.”

By the time she reaches the Rockies, Justine starts to wonder if the man in the park was a coincidence at all. Was he truly passing through Evergreen, or had he been following Adrian’s trail too? And if so, why?

Justine checked into a modest inn and sat by the window, staring out at the mountains. She felt closer to Adrian than she had in years, but the weight of uncertainty pressed down on her. What if she never found him? What if he didn’t want to be found?

The next morning, she walked to a nearby café, hoping to gather her thoughts over a cup of coffee. The café was small and cozy, its walls adorned with photographs of hikers and climbers who had passed through over the years.

As she sipped her coffee, her eyes landed on a photo near the counter. It was a group of young hikers, their faces flushed with cold and excitement. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized one of them — Adrian.

Her hands trembled as she pointed to the photo. “Excuse me,” she said to the barista. “Do you know when this was taken?”

The barista leaned over, squinting at the picture. “A couple of years ago, I think. They stayed here for a while before heading into the mountains.”

“The mountains?” Justine repeated, her heart pounding.

“Yeah. Most people come here for the trails. Some of them stick around, though. Work odd jobs, live off the grid.”

Justine nodded, her mind racing. It was a lead, the closest she had come to finding Adrian in three years. She thanked the barista and hurried out of the café, her heart pounding with a mix of hope and fear.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

As Justine stepped out of the café, clutching the map the barista had marked for her, a shadow moved in her periphery. Her heart sank as she turned and saw him — the man from the park, leaning casually against the edge of the porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.

“You,” she said, her voice sharp with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Told you I was passing through,” he said. “Guess we’re headed the same way.”

“How did you—” Her words caught in her throat as realization dawned. “You’ve been following me.”

“Following’s a strong word,” he said, pushing off the railing and stepping closer. “Call it… keeping an eye on things.”

What do you want?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “What do you know about Adrian?”

The man tilted his head, his expression inscrutable. “That depends,” he said. “Do you want to find him, or do you want to know why he’s been running?”

Justine’s breath caught. “What are you talking about?”

He stepped back, his hands raised as if in surrender. “Nothing you’re not already thinking,” he said. “Just be careful, Justine. Sometimes the answers you’re looking for aren’t the ones you want to find.”

Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared into the gathering dusk, leaving her with more questions than ever.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

The stranger’s warning followed Justine as she left the café and drove toward the trailhead the barista had marked on her map. Every turn in the road, every shadow flickering through the trees seemed to echo his parting words. Sometimes the answers you’re looking for aren’t the ones you want to find.

Who was he? How did he know Adrian’s name? Why had he turned up here, in this tiny mountain town, just as she was getting closer to finding her brother? Justine’s thoughts churned as the trail loomed ahead, the forest a dark, foreboding expanse that swallowed the late afternoon light.

She parked her car at the edge of the lot, grabbed her backpack, and set off down the trail. The path twisted through towering pines, the air thin and sharp with the scent of snow. The cabin the barista had mentioned was still miles ahead, but Justine’s steps were quick, driven by a mix of fear and hope.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

When Justine finally reached the clearing, the sight of the cabin made her breath catch. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and the sound of an ax splitting wood echoed faintly in the crisp air. She hesitated, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag. For a moment, she was afraid to move, afraid to shatter the fragile possibility that Adrian might truly be here.

Steeling herself, she approached the door and knocked, the sound reverberating through the stillness. The door opened, and there he was — older, leaner, but unmistakably Adrian. Relief and anger collided in her chest as she stepped forward, her voice trembling.

“Adrian,” she said. “It’s me.”

His face softened in recognition, but there was no joy in his expression, only wariness. “Justine,” he said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” she repeated, her voice rising. “I’ve been looking for you for three years! You just disappeared, Adrian. No word, no explanation. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Adrian sighed, stepping aside to let her in. The cabin was sparse, its walls lined with shelves of books and jars of preserved food. A single table stood in the center of the room, cluttered with papers and a half-carved piece of wood. It looked like he’d been here for a long time.

“I didn’t mean for you to come after me,” he said, sitting down heavily on a chair by the stove. “I thought… I thought you’d be better off without me.”

Justine crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Better off? Adrian, I’ve been tearing myself apart trying to find you. And now you’re here, living like a hermit, and you think that’s okay?”

Adrian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he picked up the piece of wood on the table, turning it over in his hands. “I had to leave,” he said finally. “I couldn’t stay in Evergreen anymore. I couldn’t… be the person everyone thought I was.”

“What does that even mean?” Justine demanded. “What were you running from?”

Adrian’s jaw tightened, his green eyes darkening. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she said, her voice trembling with frustration.

But before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. A slow, deliberate knock that sent a chill down Justine’s spine. Adrian froze, his hand gripping the edge of the table.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

He shook his head, his face pale. “Stay here.”

Adrian crossed the room and opened the door just enough to look out. Justine caught a glimpse of the man from the park, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading light.

“Adrian,” the man said, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”

Adrian stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. Justine rushed to the window, her breath fogging the glass as she watched the two men exchange words. Their voices were muffled, but the tension between them was palpable.

The stranger gestured toward the forest, his movements sharp and insistent. Adrian shook his head, his body language defensive. The argument escalated, the stranger stepping closer, his voice rising enough for Justine to catch fragments.

“You think you can just disappear? You think they’re going to let you go?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Adrian shot back, his voice shaking with anger. “I just wanted to start over.”

The stranger laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “You don’t get to start over. Not after what you did.”

Justine’s heart raced as she pressed her hand to the glass. What were they talking about? What had Adrian done? And who was this man who seemed to know so much about him?

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

When Adrian finally came back inside, his face was pale, and his hands trembled as he bolted the door. Justine stepped forward, her voice sharp with fear.

“Who is he, Adrian? What does he want from you?”

Adrian sank into the chair, running a hand through his hair. “He’s… someone I used to know. From before.”

“Before what?” Justine pressed. “What are you not telling me?”

Adrian looked up at her, his expression raw with guilt. “I got involved with the wrong people, Justine. I thought I could handle it, but things got out of control. When I left Evergreen, I wasn’t just running from the town. I was running from them.”

“Them?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Who are they?”

Adrian shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is they found me. And now, you’re here. I never wanted you to get dragged into this.”

“Dragged into what?” she demanded. “Adrian, you need to tell me the truth.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting to the door as if expecting the stranger to barge in at any moment. “I… I made a mistake. I owed them something. Something I couldn’t give. So I ran.”

Justine stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “And now they’re after you.”

Adrian nodded, his jaw clenched. “I thought I could disappear out here, that they’d give up eventually. But I was wrong. They don’t forget, Justine. They don’t forgive.”

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

As the fire crackled in the stove, Justine sat in silence, her mind racing. She had spent three years searching for Adrian, only to find him tangled in something far darker than she could have imagined. But she wasn’t about to give up on him now.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said finally, her voice firm. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get through it together.”

Adrian looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and despair. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he said.

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But you’re my brother. And I’m not leaving you again.”

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the promise of danger. The stranger’s words echoed in her mind- Sometimes the answers you’re looking for aren’t the ones you want to find.

Justine didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain — she wouldn’t stop fighting for Adrian, no matter what it cost her.