05/28/2026
🚨Chapter Nine-What They Miss🚨
Jeshiem remained near the back wall after the questions ended.
People stood slowly.
Not all at once.
No announcement.
No obvious transition.
Conversations simply started forming naturally around the room while soft music drifted back through hidden speakers.
Nobody rushed.
Nobody checked phones.
Nobody looked eager to leave.
That was the first thing he noticed.
His own hand kept drifting toward his pocket automatically.
Check signal.
Check time.
Check messages.
Nothing.
But everybody else seemed completely comfortable staying exactly where they were.
His phone vibrated.
Hope rose immediately.
No signal.
Just the same message sitting on his screen.
Unknown sender.
Ask somebody what they miss.
Jeshiem stared at it again.
Then locked his phone.
This was stupid.
He was standing in a conference center talking himself into conspiracy theories because somebody sent creepy footage and weird messages.
That was the rational explanation.
He knew that.
So instead of wandering hallways again—
he did something normal.
He walked over to people.
The first conversation happened near the coffee station.
A biracial man around fifty stood alone stirring sugar into coffee he wasn’t drinking.
Nice clothes.
Wedding ring.
Tired eyes.
Jeshiem nodded.
The man recognized him immediately.
His expression warmed.
“You’re the writer.”
Jeshiem smiled awkwardly.
“Sometimes.”
The man laughed.
“I watched your interviews.”
Jeshiem nodded.
Small talk.
Normal.
After a minute Jeshiem asked:
“What brought you here?”
The man smiled.
The answer came quickly.
“Needed community.”
Jeshiem nodded.
Expected.
Then he asked:
“What do you miss?”
The man stopped stirring.
His smile faded slightly.
His eyes drifted somewhere else.
For a few seconds Jeshiem thought maybe the question was rude.
Then the man answered quietly.
“My family.”
Jeshiem frowned.
“You mean they passed?”
The man blinked.
Looked confused.
Then laughed softly.
“No.”
He smiled again.
“They’re fine.”
Jeshiem waited.
The man stared into his coffee.
Then said:
“I just miss them.”
Jeshiem frowned.
The answer sat wrong.
Before he could ask anything else the man smiled.
Excused himself.
Walked away.
Jeshiem watched him go.
Okay.
Weird.
Nothing more.
The second conversation happened near the ballroom doors.
Young woman.
Early thirties.
Funny.
Friendly.
She recognized him too.
They talked.
Same question.
What brought you here?
She smiled.
“People here understand me.”
Normal answer.
Then:
“What do you miss?”
She smiled automatically.
Then stopped.
Her eyes moved slightly.
Like reading something invisible.
Then she answered softly:
“My son.”
Jeshiem blinked.
“Oh. Is he—”
She smiled again.
“He’s okay.”
Jeshiem paused.
She continued smiling.
Then added:
“I think.”
His stomach tightened.
Before he could ask—
she apologized politely and left.
Jeshiem stood there.
Something uncomfortable had started forming.
Not fear.
Pattern.
He started watching conversations.
Listening.
Then he noticed it.
People talked strangely.
Not all of them.
Enough.
A woman laughing while saying she missed her neighborhood.
A man talking about missing his wife.
Another talking about missing old friends.
Nobody sounded devastated.
Nobody sounded nostalgic.
They sounded…
matter-of-fact.
Like people discussing weather.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown sender.
One message.
Ask them when.
Jeshiem stared at it.
Then looked up.
Golden Mulatto was gone.
Jeshiem looked around.
Front row empty.
No gold shirt.
No sweat.
Gone.
That bothered him.
Jeshiem walked toward a man sitting alone.
Older.
Professional.
Reading retreat material.
Jeshiem sat nearby.
The man smiled politely.
Jeshiem asked:
“What do you miss?”
The man answered immediately.
“My brother.”
Jeshiem nodded.
Then asked casually:
“When?”
The man looked confused.
Jeshiem smiled.
“When did you stop seeing him?”
The man stared.
Long enough that Jeshiem almost apologized.
Then the man answered quietly:
“I don’t remember.”
Jeshiem smiled awkwardly.
The man kept looking at him.
Then added:
“I don’t remember leaving either.”
Jeshiem froze.
The man frowned suddenly.
Like he surprised himself.
He laughed nervously.
“What a strange thing to say.”
Then he stood immediately.
Walked away.
Jeshiem stayed sitting.
His stomach felt cold.
He looked around the ballroom.
Nobody looked trapped.
Nobody looked frightened.
People laughed.
Talked.
Smiled.
Golden Halo moved through the room greeting attendees.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Then his phone vibrated.
Unknown sender.
One message.
Leave.
Jeshiem looked up immediately.
Across the ballroom—
Golden Silk stood near the exit.
Watching him.
She held eye contact.
Then looked once toward the doors.
And walked out.
Jeshiem looked down at the message again.
Leave.
For the first time all night he stood up immediately.
