As the writer went missing, concern began to ripple through everyone who knew her. Earlier that morning, she had told the café manager she planned to return in the evening because she had something important to give to Zuv and Nora, asking them to meet her there at six. They arrived on time and waited, watching the door, expecting her familiar presence, but she never showed. After a while, unease replaced patience, and they contacted her editor, who said she had left the office around five o'clock, which made no sense because the café was only two blocks away. The editor then reached out to her current roommate, who confirmed she had not returned home. According to her, the writer wasn't the type to wander off or visit anyone beyond the small circle of people she trusted: Nora, Zuv, the café manager, and the editor.
As worry deepened, they spoke to the previous tenant manager's wife, who mentioned she thought she had seen the writer that evening. They had exchanged a simple smile, nothing unusual, and since she didn't know the writer had already moved out months ago, she hadn't thought twice about it. Realizing something was truly wrong, they filed a police complaint and explained everything. A search was conducted, but nothing turned up. Determined not to sit idle, Zuv and Nora went back to her old room. The manager there revealed that the previous tenant had mysteriously left in the middle of the night without any explanation, which immediately struck Zuv as suspicious. He decided to contact that former tenant, sensing there might be a hidden connection.
Meanwhile, Fred's brother and Nora searched the premises themselves and stayed there for a while, hoping to notice anything unusual. During this time they spoke with Hero, who had just returned from a shoot. He said he had briefly met the writer that morning before leaving for work and had remained at the shoot the entire day. His alibi checked out, and his concern seemed genuine, which only deepened the mystery. The more they investigated, the clearer it became that the writer hadn't simply disappeared—something deliberate had happened, something quiet and calculated, as if she had stepped into a shadow that refused to give her back.