SUMMER 1986!

I had friends named Henry, Steve, Michael, Nancy, and Katie. Together, we were inseparable. Katie was the one who completed our group—the person who kept us together no matter what happened.

Then, one day, she disappeared.

Days later, she was found deep in the woods. The police called it a homicide, but something about the case never made sense. There were too many unanswered questions, too many details that didn’t fit. Everyone assumed a serial killer was responsible, yet the truth felt far more complicated.

Since then, we spent most of our time by the sea. Katie loved the ocean, and somehow, being there made it feel like she wasn’t completely gone.

We were all different.

Henry, 18, was quiet, introverted, and a little nerdy. He wore oversized clothes to hide the scars left by years of abuse from his father.

Michael, 17, was the complete opposite. Outgoing, playful, obsessed with swimming and diving, he never missed a chance to tease me. Lemonade was practically his favorite thing in the world.

Steve, also 17, was full of energy. Optimistic, loud, and always trying to make everyone laugh, he refused to let silence take over.

Nancy, 15, was warm-hearted and endlessly kind. She loved photography and found beauty in even the smallest moments.

And there was me—Raven, 16.

Right now, the five of us were sitting in the basement of my house. The room was dimly lit, the old lamp above us flickering every few seconds. Boxes filled the corners, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

No one wanted to say it first.

But every one of us was thinking the same thing.

Katie’s case was never truly over.