Are y’all keeping up with this serial narrative?

Here’s Part 1 to get you going. From Gina Barton: Mark Zera and his father made their way down the deserted rural road from their home to Franklin High School and back again. As his father drove slowly through the darkness, Mark ran back and forth behind the car, scanning the roadside ditches for some sign of his brother.

John, 14, hadn’t come home from school that day. Maybe he had been hit by a car and was lying there, hurt, needing help.

Mark and his father searched for a glimpse of John’s green jacket until the unseasonably warm February evening surrendered to a chilly winter night and rain started to fall, soon mixing with snow.

Back at home, the boys’ mother dialed number after number, the rotary phone impossibly slow.

“Have you seen Johnny?” she asked her son’s classmates, his friends, their parents, the neighbors.

No. No. No. No.

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