It was all her fault. He’d told her someone was following him and she’d rolled her eyes and told him not to be silly. A tear rolled down her cheek. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚?

Justine stood up and made her way to her brother’s room. She paused uncertainly outside his door. The police had searched it of course, but maybe they’d missed something; some important clue as to where he’d gone.

𝙊𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

She shuddered and pushed open his door. It was surprisingly neat, their mother must of tidied up after the police had been. They’d taken his laptop and ipad with them. She glanced around, lifting up books and clothes to see if there was anything hidden underneath. She’d been searching for half an hour when she sat down on his bed, hopeless and full of despair. She put her face in her hands and began to sob, when suddenly she sat up.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠.

He’d been holding a black leather book when he’d told her his suspicions. A book he’d been carrying around for the past month. But where was it? Would it lead her to wherever he’d gone? The police hadn’t taken it and she hadn’t found it in his room.

𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙢. Hopelessness threatened to take over again. She got up and began to search again, pulling out anything that looked remotely like the book. She glanced at the bed and frowned. The mattress was slightly raised by the wall. She pulled it up and peered underneath.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨!

Justine grabbed it and left the room quickly. Once in her own bedroom, she locked the door and opened it up.

It seemed to be a diary of some sort. She flicked through the pages, reading snippets of her brothers neat handwriting. When she got to the back page she froze. There were two types of handwriting, her brother seemed to have been interrupted and somebody else had written underneath.

𝙽𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢? 𝙸 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘-

𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟.