When The Rain Fall

Mia wasn't sure how to move forward with Liam, but she knew one thing—she wasn't ready to walk away completely. So she decided to take it one day at a time, letting him prove his love through actions rather than words.

But just as she was finding her footing, fate threw another curveball.

Mia first met Jonah Sinclair on a Wednesday afternoon at the café where she and Liam had their first real conversation. He was sitting at the counter, sketching something in a leather-bound notebook, his fingers smudged with charcoal.

At first, she didn't pay much attention to him—until she glanced at his sketchpad and saw something that made her heart stop.

It was a drawing of the oak tree.

But not just any drawing—Jonah had captured the tree in the rain, just as it had been the first night she met Liam. The details were hauntingly accurate, from the way the raindrops clung to the leaves to the distant, shadowy figure standing beneath its branches.

Mia felt a shiver run down her spine.

"How do you know that tree?" she asked, unable to keep the question to herself.

Jonah looked up, his blue eyes sharp and perceptive. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I've spent a lot of time there," she admitted.

Jonah studied her for a moment before nodding. "Same." He hesitated. "It's a special place for me."

Mia frowned. "Why?"

He exhaled, setting his pencil down. "Because that's where my sister used to go. Before she disappeared."

Mia's heart skipped a beat. "Your sister?"

Jonah nodded. "Her name was Isla. She was an artist, like me. She used to sit under that tree for hours, sketching. Then, one day, she just… vanished."

Mia felt an uneasy sense of déjà vu. "When did this happen?"

"Five years ago," Jonah said. "The police investigated, but they never found anything. No leads, no clues. It was like she just disappeared into thin air."

Mia swallowed. "I'm so sorry."

Jonah gave her a small, sad smile. "It's okay. I've spent the last few years trying to piece together what happened. And recently, I found something strange."

He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his sketchbook and handed it to her.

Mia unfolded it carefully. It was an old newspaper clipping.

Her eyes widened. "Liam mentioned an old love… someone who left him without explanation."

Jonah's gaze sharpened. "Liam?"

Mia hesitated before nodding. "Liam West. He's an artist, too. And years ago, he lost someone he loved—someone who just disappeared. He never told me her name, but… could it have been Isla?"

Jonah's jaw clenched. "I need to meet him."

Later that evening, Mia and Jonah met Liam at his apartment. He was surprised to see Jonah but welcomed him inside.

As soon as they sat down, Jonah got straight to the point. "Did you know Isla Sinclair?"

Liam stiffened, his expression unreadable. "Why?"

Jonah placed the newspaper clipping on the table. "Because she was my sister. And she disappeared five years ago."

Liam's breath caught. His hands tightened into fists. "Isla was… your sister?"

Jonah nodded. "And I think you were the last person to see her."

Silence stretched between them. Mia's heart pounded.

Liam finally exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I loved her."

Jonah's jaw tightened. "Then tell me what happened."

Liam closed his eyes for a long moment, as if gathering the strength to say the words.

"She was scared," he admitted. "The night before she disappeared, she told me someone was following her. That she felt like she was being watched. I told her it was probably just her imagination, but she was convinced something was wrong."

Jonah's hands clenched. "And then?"

Liam swallowed hard. "The next day, she was gone."

Mia felt a chill run down her spine. "Do you think… she was taken?"

Jonah shook his head. "I don't know. But I intend to find out."

As they pieced together what little information they had, Mia's mind raced. What if Isla hadn't left willingly? What if someone had been watching her—someone who didn't want her to be found?

Then Jonah pulled out another sketch, this one much rougher. "This was the last thing Isla drew before she vanished."

Mia and Liam leaned in. The sketch was of a bridge, surrounded by water. A small figure stood at the edge, looking over.

Liam's breath caught. "I know that place."

Jonah's eyes darkened. "Where?"

Liam stood abruptly. "The abandoned train bridge by the river."

Mia's stomach twisted. "You think she went there?"

Liam hesitated. "I think we need to find out."

That night, the three of them made their way to the bridge. It was old and rusted, barely holding together, stretching over a deep, dark river.

Jonah held up a flashlight, scanning the area. "This place gives me a bad feeling."

Mia wrapped her arms around herself. "Me too."

Liam stepped forward, his gaze distant. "I remember Isla talking about this place once. She said she used to come here to clear her head."

Jonah shone the flashlight along the edges of the bridge. "Then let's see if we can find anything."

They spread out, searching the area carefully. The wind howled through the broken beams, and the river below churned ominously.

Then Jonah called out.

"Guys, over here!"

Mia and Liam rushed to where he was standing. Jonah pointed to something half-buried in the dirt.

It was a bracelet—delicate, silver, with a small engraved I.S.

Isla Sinclair.

Mia's breath hitched. "She was here."

Liam picked up the bracelet, his hands trembling. "But if she was here, where did she go?"

Jonah turned toward the darkness beyond the bridge. "Maybe we're asking the wrong question."

Mia met his gaze. "Then what's the right one?"

Jonah's expression was grim.

"Who was she running from?"