The Signal We Never Shared

During dinner, Nathan suddenly put down his fork and looked at me.

Who's Marcus Knight?

My heart skipped a beat.

Marcus Knight.

That name was something my best friend Lily and I had made up one drunken night.

We'd agreed that if either of us ever got into trouble and couldn't be reached, we'd use Marcus Knight as our distress signal.

Besides the two of us, no one else in the world knew this name existed.

And Lily had been missing for exactly one month.

She'd said she was going to Thailand for vacation.

And then she never came back.

I looked at Nathan's casual expression, my heart sinking bit by bit.

How did he know this name?

The name Marcus Knight was something Lily and I had invented during our college graduation year, after finishing an entire bottle of wine while lying on the rooftop.

The moon was full that night.

Lily wrapped her arm around my neck, drunk, and said, "Claire, let's create a code word."

"What kind of code word?"

"Like if one day something happens to one of us and we can't be reached, the other person will know something's wrong when they hear this name."

I told her she was being silly.

But I still spent half the night thinking of names with her, finally settling on Marcus Knight.

We were the only people in the world who knew what Marcus Knight really meant.

And Lily had been missing for exactly thirty-one days.

She'd said she was going to Chiang Mai, Thailand for a few days.

Before leaving, she'd even video-called me, holding up her phone at the airport duty-free shop and shouting, "Claire! What do you want? I'll bring it back for you!"

That was the last time I saw her face.

After that, her SnapChat messages stopped.

Her phone went straight to voicemail.

Her Instagram froze on a photo of a Chiang Mai night market.

I filed a police report. Her family filed one too.

The Thai authorities were investigating.

But Lily had vanished from this world like vapor.

And now my husband, Nathana man who had zero connection to Lilyhad casually dropped this name during dinner.

"What's wrong?" Nathan saw me freeze and smiled. "Why do you look so strange?"

"Nothing." I lowered my head, putting food in my mouth that tasted like nothing. "I've just never heard that name. Where did you hear it?"

"Oh, a friend mentioned it." Nathan picked up his water glass and took a sip. "Just asking."

He changed the subject and started talking about work.

But I couldn't hear a word.

My mind had only one thought: How did he know that name?

After dinner, Nathan went to shower.

I sat on the couch, palms sweating.

Water sounds came from the bathroom.

I glanced at the bathroom door, stood up, and walked toward his phone on the dining table.

I knew the password.

It was our wedding anniversary.

I opened the phone, fingers trembling, and started going through his chat history, call logs, notes.

Nothing.

Then I went to check his computer.

His laptop was in the study. I knew that password too.

Or rather, he'd never hidden it from me.

Browsing history, folders, download recordsI checked everything.

Until I opened a cached record from a flight booking app.

My hand stopped.

A month ago.

Nathan had told me he was going to Los Angeles on a business trip for three days.

I'd even helped him pack his suitcase.

But the booking record showed he hadn't bought a ticket to Los Angeles.

He'd bought a ticket to Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Departure date: one day before Lily left.

Return date: two days after Lily went missing.

The bathroom water stopped.

I quickly closed the computer, walked back to the living room, sat on the couch, and pretended to scroll through videos on my phone.

Nathan came out drying his hair and glanced at me. "Still up?"

"Yeah, just scrolling a bit more."

I smiled.

He walked into the bedroom and turned off the light.

I stared at the bedroom door in the darkness, fingers slowly gripping the armrest tighter and tighter.

What had Nathan been doing in Thailand?

Early the next morning, I told Nathan I had an urgent work project and needed to travel for a few days.

Nathan was adjusting his tie and didn't even turn around. "Where to?"

"Chicago."

"How many days?"

"Not sure. Maybe three or four."

He turned to look at me and smiled. "Be safe."

I smiled back.

Noon flight.

I didn't go to Chicago.

I went to Chiang Mai, Thailand.

The plane landed at 4 PM local time.

Chiang Mai's air was hot and humid, the smell hitting me made me momentarily dizzy.

The last photo Lily sent me was taken in this city.

She stood in front of a mango juice stand, smiling like a child.

I had no time for sentiment.

I went straight to the hotel where Lily had stayed.

I'd already looked it up before departing.

Before leaving, Lily had shared a screenshot of her hotel reservation with meLotus Garden Boutique Hotel on the edge of the old city.

At the front desk, I showed the receptionist Lily's photo and asked in English.

"This girl stayed at your hotel a month ago. Do you remember her?"

The receptionist looked at the photo and shook her head.

"Her name is Lily. American." I added.

The receptionist checked the computer and nodded.

"We have a record. She stayed three nights, then didn't extend or check out. Her luggage is still in our storage."

My heart clenched hard.

Luggage still here. Person gone.

I steadied myself and asked the question I was most afraid to ask.

"A month ago, was there also an American man staying at your hotel?"

I handed over Nathan's photo.

The receptionist looked at it and checked the computer again.

Then she looked up, expression hesitant.

"Yes. He stayed five nights."

Five nights.

Longer than Lily's three.

"Which room was he in?"

"312."

"And Lily?"

"315."

Same floor.

Two rooms apart.

I stood at the front desk, my mind buzzing.

My first thought was the most clich one: they were having an affair.

Lily and Nathan had booked adjacent rooms in Thailand.

But as soon as that thought emerged, another voice slapped it down.

Impossible.

Lily hated Nathan.

Not the polite-on-the-surface, disgusted-underneath kind of hate.

The confrontational, no-mercy kind.

Every time I brought Nathan to gatherings, Lily barely acknowledged him.

Once when she'd had too much to drink, she said directly to Nathan's face, "Claire's great at everything except her taste in men."

Nathan's face had turned green.

After that, they never looked at each other properly again.

How could two people like that be having an affair in Thailand?

Then why was he staying next door to her?

What exactly was he doing?

I took a deep breath and looked at the receptionist.

"I need to review your hotel's security footage from that time."

The receptionist looked uncomfortable. "That we'd need to get the manager's approval."

"Please."

"And we might need police cooperation."

"My best friend is missing."

I interrupted her, voice calm but hands shaking.

"For a month now. No body, no trace. Your hotel might be one of the last places she appeared. Do you think your manager won't cooperate?"

The receptionist went quiet looking at me.

Then she picked up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, the hotel's security supervisor took me to the monitoring room.

The monitoring room was small, three walls covered with screens.

The security supervisor pulled up footage from a month ago, starting from the day Lily checked in.

I sat in the chair, staring at the screen, palms cold with sweat.

Day one.

Lily dragged her suitcase into the hotel lobby and checked in at the front desk.

She wore a white sundress, hair in a ponytail, chatting cheerfully with the receptionist.

My eyes suddenly grew hot.

Bottom right corner of the frame, lobby entrance.

A man pushed through the door.

Dark blue T-shirt, baseball cap, mask.

From his build, his gait.

It was Nathan.

He didn't go to the front desk. Instead, he sat down in the lobby seating area and picked up a magazine to hold in front of his face.

But his gaze kept following Lily.

From checking in, to getting her room key, to entering the elevator.

He watched the entire time.

A chill ran down my back.

"Fast forward," I said.

The security supervisor sped up the playback.

Day one, afternoon.

Lily left the hotel to go shopping.

The camera cut to the hotel entrance surveillance. About two minutes after she left, Nathan followed.

Same baseball cap, same mask.

Keeping about twenty meters distance.

Day one, evening.

Lily ate dinner at the hotel's first-floor restaurant.

Nathan sat in a corner of the restaurant with a cup of coffee.

His position gave him a perfect view of Lily's table.

Lily never noticed him the entire time.

Day two.

Lily went out to visit a temple.

Nathan followed.

Lily went to a night market.

Nathan followed.

Lily bought coconut water on the street, crouched down to pet a stray cat.

Nathan stood at a convenience store across the street, pretending to look at his phone.

Every shot, every frame.

He was there.

My hands started shaking.

This wasn't an affair.

People having affairs don't act like this.

Wearing a mask, keeping distance, tracking throughout.

People having affairs walk side by side, eat together, have intimate contact.

But he didn't.

From beginning to end, he never said a word to Lily.

From beginning to end, Lily never knew he was there.

This wasn't an affair.

This was stalking.

"What about day three?"

I asked, voice dry.

The security supervisor pulled up day three's footage.

Day three morning, Lily checked outor rather, she left the hotel.

She carried a backpack, held a map in her hand, looked cheerful.

The surveillance showed her walking out the hotel entrance, heading east along the street.

Two minutes later.

Nathan came out the hotel side entrance, walking in the same direction.

Then the footage ended.

The hotel's surveillance only covered about fifty meters around the hotel.

Beyond fifty meters, I couldn't see anymore.

"Is there other surveillance?" I asked.

The security supervisor shook his head. "The hotel only has these. For street cameras, you'd need to contact local police."

I was silent for a long time.

Then I stood up, thanked him, and walked out of the monitoring room.

Standing at the hotel entrance, I opened the map on my phone.

The direction Lily walked was east.

Following that road east, you'd pass several streets, a market, a gas station.

The final destination was the coast.

A cliff coastline.

I stared at that marker on the map, fingers ice cold.

She went there.

He followed.

Then she disappeared.

I rented a motorcycle and rode along that road for forty minutes.

The end of the road was an open coastline.

The cliff was high. Below were rocks and waves.

The wind was strong, making it hard to stand.

This wasn't a tourist spot. No guardrails, no warning signs. Just a path overgrown with weeds leading to the cliff's edge.

I stood at the cliff edge looking down.

Below were broken rocks, bushes, and a beach repeatedly washed by seawater.

If a person fell from here

I didn't dare think about it.

I started asking around the area.

Near the cliff was a small fishing village, sparsely populated with a few households.

I went door to door with Lily's photo.

No one had seen her.

I asked over a dozen households. All shook their heads.

I was about to leave when, under a large tree at the village entrance, I saw a small boy.

Maybe seven or eight years old.

Wearing a dirty blue T-shirt, barefoot, sitting on the ground playing with mud.

He held something in his hand.

A phone.

Pink phone case.

With a cat paw-shaped phone stand attached.

My mind went blank.

That phone case was a birthday present I'd given Lily.

I'd personally picked it out online. Pink, with a cat paw stand, because Lily loved cats most.

I walked over, trying to make my voice sound gentle.

"Hey there, where did you get this phone?"

The boy looked up at me and instinctively hid the phone behind his back.

"Is it yours?"

"N-no." His voice was very small, eyes evasive.

"I'm not a bad person."

I crouched down to his eye level. "The owner of this phone is my good friend. She's lost. I'm looking for her. Can you tell me where you found it?"

The boy pressed his lips together, not speaking.

His eyes held something I rarely saw in children: fear.

Not fear of me.

"Did you see something scary?" I asked softly.

The boy's lips trembled.

Still didn't speak.

I pulled out some Thai baht from my pocket and held it out to him.

"You tell me, and I'll buy you something good to eat, okay?"

The boy looked at the money, then at me.

Hesitated for a while.

Then he said in a small voice:

"Found it at the bottom of the mountain."

"Which mountain?"

He raised his hand and pointed toward the cliff.

My heart sank another level.

"Besides the phone, did you find anything else?"

The boy went silent again.

Eyes dodging.

"You did find something, didn't you?"

He slowly pulled out something from behind him.

A wallet.

White, leather, with a small bow on it.

It was Lily's.

I recognized this wallet.

Last Christmas, she'd seen it at the mall but thought it was too expensive and didn't buy it. I secretly bought it and gave it to her.

She was happy for an entire week.

Now the wallet was covered in mud and water stains, the leather cracked.

I took the wallet, fingers trembling.

Opened it.

The bank cards, ID, and a photo of us together were still inside.

Lily would never willingly throw these things away.

If they were at the bottom of the mountain

Then where was Lily?

"Can you take me to where you found these things?" I asked.

The boy shook his head hard.

"I'll give you money."

Still shook his head.

"Please."

My voice started shaking.

I didn't care anymore if I was threatening a child.

Lily's phone and wallet were at the bottom of the mountain.

Lily wasn't.

I had to go there.

The boy looked at my face for a long time.

Maybe my expression was too frightening.

He slowly stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants.

"I'll take you."

He walked ahead, I followed behind.

The path got narrower, the weeds deeper, a strange smell began filling the air.

My stomach started churning.

I kept repeating in my mind:

I'd rather she was having an affair with my husband.

I'd rather she betrayed me.

I'd rather she eloped with Nathan.

Anything.

As long as she's still alive.

Anything.

The boy suddenly stopped.

He turned back to look at me, face pale.

"What is it?"

"That place" He swallowed, voice almost inaudible.

"It really smells."

I didn't continue forward.

I knew that even if I walked down alone and saw something, it would be meaningless.

I needed professionals.

I needed evidence.

I pulled the boy back to the fishing village, took out my phone, and called the local police emergency number.