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''Bro, you know how I process my sad feels—dank nuts and the stickiest of ickies. Works every time,''

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I LEANED AGAINST the window, watching the trees whip past as John B steered the van through the narrow, winding road. Kiara was up front beside John B. Behind them, JJ and I sat side by side, with Pope squished in next to us, gripping the compass like it held every answer in the world.

''I mean, it's obvious, right?'' John B started as he glanced over his shoulder at us. ''A family heirloom. What better place to hide a message? He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?''

Kiara shrugged, offering a faint smile. ''Yeah, it's possible.''

Pope raised an eyebrow. ''It could also be possible that you're concocting wild theories to help... you know, deal with your sad feels.'' His tone was gentle, but he didn't sugarcoat it.

I bit my lip, unable to ignore how much Pope's words mirrored my own thoughts. I wanted to believe John B's dad was out there, too. But after almost a year without a trace, I just... couldn't see it. My dad might leave me alone for days, sometimes weeks at a time, but nine months without a word? My mind couldn't get there.

JJ, sensing the tension, spoke up. ''Bro, you know how I process my sad feels—dank nuts and the stickiest of ickies. Works every time,'' he joked, nudging me with a smirk.

''Yeah, that's very reassuring,'' I replied, rolling my eyes and he just grinned wider.

John B glanced at him in the rearview mirror, undeterred. ''I'm not concocting, okay? My dad's trying to give me a message.'' His jaw tightened as he faced forward, gritting his teeth slightly.

Kiara's voice softened. ''If it helps you believe, John B...''

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the wheel. ''Look, I— I don't need a therapy session, okay? I'm not trippin' out.''

''It's okay to trip, bro,'' JJ replied, leaning forward to catch his eye. ''But—''

''Look—'' John B cut in. ''My dad is missing, okay? You guys don't understand what it's like to have the person closest to you just vanish.'' He shook his head, pressing his lips together. ''And then have no idea what happened.''

The van grew quiet. I wanted to reach out, to tell him that I understood, but words stuck in my throat. I felt his pain. After all, I'd been waiting for answers about my mum for years. But before I could speak, John B looked at me, his expression softening for a moment.

''Except for you, Mimi,'' he added. ''I know you get it.''

''Thanks,'' I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.