Joran, Sarah's older brother, slouched in by the doorway, his face etched with worry. "She usually comes home before dark. Even if they stay late, they call."
A flicker of anger crossed Tord's face. "Probably out with some boys, that one," he mumbled, taking a swig from the bottle.
Mila shot him a withering look. "Don't be ridiculous, Tord."
Rahimi cleared her throat, forcing Tord's attention. "Mr. Jonsson," she started, her voice firm but respectful. "Can you tell me a little about Sarah's friends? Did she ever mention any problems with them?"
Tord scoffed. "Kids these days, always up to something."
Mila cut in, her voice gaining strength. "Sarah wasn't like that, Officer. Responsible, studious. She wouldn't just disappear."
Rahimi noted the desperate plea in Mila's eyes. "Can you tell me who she was supposed to meet with today?"
"A group of friends," Joran supplied. "Mostly girls from her class. Emilia, Ingrid, maybe a couple of others."
Rahimi scribbled their names on her notepad. "Have there been any recent incidents in the village? Strange people, anything out of the ordinary?"
Mila shook her head. "Nothing unusual. Just… quiet. Everyone's worried about the economy."
Rahimi's brow furrowed. "Has Sarah ever gone missing before?"
"Never," Mila replied, a tremor in her voice. "She's always followed the rules."
Joran chimed in, "Except for tonight, apparently." He glared at his father, who ignored him, his gaze fixed on the near-empty bottle.
Rahimi decided to change tactics. "Mrs. Jonsson, would you mind if I took a look at Sarah's room?"
Mila nodded, wiping a stray tear. Joran led the officer down the narrow hallway. Sarah's room was a teenager's haven – posters adorned the walls, books piled high on a desk scattered with notebooks.
"Anything look out of place?" Rahimi asked.
Joran scanned the room. "Not that I see. Maybe her phone?" He picked up a sparkly pink case on the desk. "It's here, but it's off."
As Rahimi examined the phone, she saw a half-written message on the screen: "Meet you at the Green… wear…" The rest was cut off.
"Meet someone at the village green?" Rahimi pondered aloud. "Did she ever sneak out before?"
Joran blushed. "Maybe once or twice, but nothing serious. Mom would have flipped."
Rahimi pocketed the phone. "Let's talk to Sarah's friends. They might know where she planned to go."
Back in the kitchen, Rahimi explained the plan. Mila clutched Tord's arm, her eyes pleading. He remained silent, staring at his lap.
"We'll find her, Mrs Jonsson," Rahimi assured her, her voice sincere. "Let's go."
The four left the Jonsson house, leaving behind a thick curtain of worry and fear. Outside, the setting sun cast an orange glow on the village green, a place that usually buzzed with teenage laughter but now lay abandoned, an unsettling silence hanging heavy in the air.
Hours later, the sun climbed higher, casting its light on the desolate scene unfolding before them. A team of volunteers, mostly the neighbours they had called earlier, scoured the woods behind the village green, their faces etched with concern.
Joran, side by side with his mother, pushed himself through the undergrowth, his heart pounding with every rustle of leaves. He replayed conversations with Sarah in his head, searching for any hidden clues, any hint of trouble.
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