The Vanishing Complex

Chapter 3

Sofia's cup of coffee was steaming on the edge of her desk, along with the 6 other empty paper cups. The clock on her computer screen read 5:30 a.m. Her clothes from yesterday were hanging  loosely from her body, ready to be tossed in the hamper.

As sunlight began to dip over the horizon, the front door of the Toronto Tribune opened. It's whoosh hardly piqued her interest. For the last 12 hours, her eyes had been glued to her screen, taking in every piece of information.

In front of her was her notepad, filled to the brim with names, dates, and locations. Sofia's hands was beginning to shake from the amount of caffeine coursing through her veins. But she had needed it, there was too much to find to just drift off and sleep.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Her muscles jerked in response as her state of concentration finally broke. Her eyes were heavy, her vision growing blurry as she blinked to lubricate her irises.

She looked down at the hand on her shoulder, and followed it up the arm of its owner. Josh smiled brightly, holding up yet another cup of coffee. Sofia scooped it up with both hands thanking him profusely.

Josh took on the task of clearing her desk of used coffee cups and then brought her a breakfast sandwich, too.

He glanced at her desk, noticing all the papers scattered about. From the looks of her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, she had been there all night without a single break or nap in between. Josh unwrapped his sandwich and pulled up a chair beside her.

The fury of her research was beginning to wind down along with the adrenaline. Lack of sleep and being over caffeinated was finally taking its toll. A pounding headache erupted on the sides of her skull. She pressed her fingers to her temples, groaning in pain.

Josh picked up her notes and thumbed through them.

"Is this like your psychotic break?" he asked, taking a generous bite of his sandwich.

"I've been at this for hours. I think I went Beautiful Mind by the fifth hour." Sofia replied, continuing to rub her temples.

"What am I looking at? It's just a bunch of random names, ages, dates, locations, and like social media handles."

Sofia picked up her sandwich, the light in her eyes shining with the anticipation of being able to share.

"I dug deep into all the patients that provided testimonies. Some were a little harder to find than others, but I finally got it all. The date you see for each patient is the last day they posted anything on social media. I took it to mean that was the day that they were admitted into The Nest. Since then, nothing has been posted." Sofia explained.

"Well, social media has been proven to be a source of depression and anxiety, maybe they don't feel the need to use it after they get out." Josh said, shrugging.

"You think they get out?"

Josh blinked at her, letting his eyes slid to the right as he considered her question.

"Why wouldn't they? How else could they give these testimonials?"

"They take children, teenagers, young adults once they've shown signs of Vanishing Complex. They take them. Does that sound like a program that would easily release patients?" Sofia asked.

Josh chuckled, shaking his head.

"Okay, you haven't slept in like 12 hours, you need to get some rest." he said.

"It's all there, read it over. Not a single patient who gave a testimonial has been on social media or left any kind of digital footprint. These are teenagers. Name one teenager that can't stay off Snapchat or Instagram?"