The little boy pointed toward the schoolyard and shouted, “Give me back my sister!” At that time, the yard of Pine Group Elementary was completely quiet. The school was located in a peaceful area outside of Springfield. It was a winter morning. The clouds were thick, and the air was cold. The wind was blowing into the classroom through the windows.

The children sat quietly inside, staring at the foggy windows, waiting for the bell to ring. Then, suddenly, someone shouted, “Give me back my sister!” A little boy, around six years old, appeared in the middle of the yard. His hair was messy, his body was covered in mud, and his feet were wounded. He wasn’t wearing any shoes.

He was crying as he ran, and his tears mixed with the mud on his face. His lips were red and turning purple from the cold. His gaze was distant, but it was clear he was terrified. “Please, give me back my sister,” he begged. First and second graders came out of their classrooms and froze in place when they saw the muddy child.

Some of the little girls stepped back and whispered, “Who’s that? He looks crazy.” Mr. James, an elderly teacher, rushed outside. He spoke seriously. “Hey, who are you? How did you get in here?” The boy didn’t answer. He ran to the center of the yard and began digging near a large tree with his bare hands.

His fingers got wounded and started to bleed, but he kept digging. “Lucy, Lucy is here,” he said. “What’s happening to that child?” asked Catherine, a young teacher. “Has anyone called the guard yet?” Derek, the school security guard, arrived from the gate. His expression was cold. He walked toward the boy and said sternly, “Hey, stand up. You’re damaging the school’s grounds.”

The boy ignored him and kept digging. “I have to save my sister. She’s buried here.” Some of the grade 3 students laughed. One of them even took out their phone and started recording. “He’s possessed or something. Tag Noah. Post it on TikTok,” said Sarah. No one came near the boy. No one asked if he was okay.

Alex kept digging until he collapsed from exhaustion. His hands were bloody as he whispered, “Lucy, don’t be scared.” After saying those words, he fell to the ground, weak and barely able to breathe.

In the small security office of Pine Group Elementary—no bigger than a kitchen—Alex sat on an old chair. His clothes were torn, his feet were dirty, and he stood barefoot on the cold floor. Derek, the security guard, sighed and handed him a wet rag. “Wipe your face. You look like you came from a garbage dump,” Derek said.

Alex didn’t move. “What’s your name?” Derek asked. “Alex,” the boy replied faintly. “Alex? There’s no student here with that name.”

Teacher Catherine arrived, holding a cellphone.
“I’ve already called the police. We don’t know where this kid came from. Probably a stray,” she said.

Derek replied, “There’s a lot of them making up stories these days.”

Suddenly, Alex began whispering over and over again.
“Lucy… she’s my sister. The man with the black hat. He’s the one who buried Lucy.”

Teacher Catherine felt a chill run down her spine but tried to keep her voice calm.
“Enough. This isn’t a show. Who even let this child in?” she asked, while Derek let out a laugh.

Ten minutes later, two police officers arrived—Mark, the older one, and Michael, the younger.
Mark looked at Alex and asked, “Who’s this?”

“We don’t know,” Derek answered. “We just found him in the schoolyard. He’s hoarse and talking about a body.”

Michael knelt in front of Alex.
“What’s your name? Do you remember where you live?”

“Lucy… buried… man with the black hat,” Alex replied.

Mark shook his head. “Just a kid with an overactive imagination. Probably abandoned by his parents.”

“I can see it’s real. She’s buried behind the tree!” Alex shouted.

Michael looked at Mark, but Mark just shook his head.
“Just stories—like that kid who said his mom was murdered, but she was just napping in the park.”

“Where’s your family?” Michael asked.

“They’re gone. Lucy was all I had,” Alex replied.

“Let’s just send him to the orphanage,” said Mark. “No point wasting more time.”

Derek opened the door and pushed Alex out.
“No one believes you. Get lost.”

Alex walked away slowly through the cold wind, his feet bloody.
When he reached the gate, he saw a group of students watching a video of him screaming.

“Look at this,” one of them said.
“So creepy, right?”
“He’s nuts,” another added.

Emma whispered quietly, “He just looks really sad… Lonely.”
“He’s a lunatic,” Sarah replied.

From afar, Alex stood shivering by the fence.
Rain began to fall as he slowly walked away, leaving behind the laughter, the staring eyes, and the soil where his sister lay buried—never to wake again.

---

At Rosewood Shelter, Alex was taken in.
The paint on the walls was chipped, and the air smelled musty. He was wrapped in an old blanket, sitting on the bed.

Miss Susan, the social worker, entered. She was overweight, had curly hair, and wore heavy lipstick.

“What’s your name?”
“Alex.”
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re gone.”

“Sigh… Another abandoned one,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“Write this down, Marta,” she ordered a new staff member. “No parents. Liar. Not a student.”

Marta stayed quiet, though she looked concerned.
“What if what he’s saying is true?”

“You’re new. There are lots like this—just making things up,” Susan said dismissively.

Alex approached, shivering.
“Can you go to the school? Dig near the tree? Please?”

“I’m not a grave digger. Stop lying,” Susan snapped angrily.
Alex began to cry. “I’m not lying…”

---

The next day, a journalist named Andrew visited.
“Hi, I’m Andrew. What’s your name?”
“Alex.”
“I heard you said something about your sister?”

“Lucy. The man in the black hat buried her next to the tree.”

Andrew was shocked.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I saw it myself.”

Suddenly, Susan entered.
“Stop that. It’s all just stories. No missing person reports. No body.”

“But the details… they’re very specific,” Andrew argued.

“You write anything about this, and I’ll sue you,” Susan warned.

Andrew left, confused.

---

That afternoon, Alex was brought back to the school for reinvestigation.
But as soon as he stepped inside, everyone stared at him like he was crazy.

In the principal’s office, the teachers had gathered.

“We’re wasting our time on that kid,” said Principal Rose. “We’re a top school. We can’t risk our reputation.”

“There’s no missing girl named Lucy either,” added Mr. —

Paul: “We also have no record of any student named Alex,” added Rose.

While Alex was locked up in the security room, Derek was once again the one watching over him.
“Why did you come back? You want to die?” Derek whispered.

Alex trembled.
“You killed Lucy.”
“Shut up if you don’t want to follow her,” Derek threatened.

But Alex stared at him straight.
“Lucy is in Psycha 3.”
“You’re funny. Dig all you want—no one’s going to believe you.”

Officer Ellen, a female police officer, arrived.
“We’re going to take another look at the case,” she said.
“Can you step outside for a moment?” she ordered Derek.

Now only Ellen and Alex were left inside.
“Alex, I’m Ellen. You can tell me the truth. You’re not at fault,” she said gently.

Alex began to cry.
“He said he had candy… then took us to the back of the schoolyard…”

Ellen listened silently.
“When he hit Lucy on the head…”
Ellen’s hands trembled as she wrote down Alex’s words.

Suddenly, Rose entered.
“You may be a cop, but this is still a school. You don’t have any papers or permission.”

Ellen looked at her and said, “I’ll be back.”

---

On the way back to the shelter, Alex passed by a bakery.
He stopped and looked at the bread through the glass.
He was hungry, tired, cold, and alone.

Mr. Raymond, the store owner, shouted,
“Hey, get away from there if you don’t have money!”
“I’m just looking,” Alex replied.

“Street kids like you—always up to something. Can’t be trusted,” Raymond said irritably.

People on the sidewalk murmured.
A woman in a fur shawl, Jennifer, shook her head.
“That’s the boy from the video. My kid won’t stop talking about him.”

“What video?” someone nearby asked.
“The one where he’s screaming at school, pretending there was some tragedy. Said his sister was buried. Just trying to go viral,” Jennifer replied.

Alex’s world spun.
He dropped to his knees by the roadside, holding his empty stomach.
His teeth chattered.

A child passing by asked their mother,
“Mom, why is that boy crying?”
“Because, child… no one believes him,” the mother replied as they walked away.

---

That night at the orphanage, Martha quietly placed a bowl of soup beside Alex’s bed.
He didn’t touch it.
He just whispered,
“They don’t believe me… They say I’m crazy. But it’s true. My sister is really there.”

Martha sat beside him and held his hand.
“I believe you, Alex. I just don’t know how to help you.”

Alex looked up, his eyes red, voice hoarse.
“I just want someone to help me dig.”

---

Derek Harper, born in 1972 in Fresno County, appeared in documents as an ordinary citizen—no criminal record.
He was hired as a security guard at Fine Group Elementary School in 2019.
Due to staff shortages, his application went unchecked.

He was formerly a guard at Paradise Reform Center for several years. No one investigated further.

“Do you have experience with kids?” Principal Rose asked.
“Of course. I’ve calmed down many hysterical kids. I know how to discipline,” Derek said with a smile.

“Do you have a psychological evaluation?”
“Yes, everything’s clear.”
“Good. I need someone strict but quiet. Not everyone can watch over elementary kids.”
“You can count on me,” Derek replied.

Rose didn’t ask further questions—she urgently needed staff.

But the truth was, Derek had been fired from Paradise Reform Center in 2017 for inappropriate behavior toward children.
However, his record was wiped clean thanks to past connections.

Rose had previously worked with Matthew Evans, the director of that center.
In a recorded call discovered later, Rose was heard saying,
“Matthew, I need someone to watch the school. He doesn’t need to clean—just be quiet. Derek’s a bit rough, but he can control the kids.”

Since Derek started working at Fine Group Elementary, he became quickly known by the students—but for frightening reasons.

“If you keep running, I’ll break your legs,” he shouted at Mason, who was just playing soccer.
“You think this school is a market?” he yelled at Andrea, when she accidentally dropped her milk.

Whenever a child was called by Derek to the old storage room, they would come out silent—like they were terrified.

One day, Clara, a student in third grade, told her mother,
“Mom, the guard said he would give me candy if I followed him. But I got scared.”
“Why were you scared?”
“He looked at me weird… then said, ‘If you tell anyone, I’ll bury you like a rat.’”

Clara’s mother took her to the school, but Principal Rose was cold in her response.
“You know how active children’s imaginations can be. Clara is shy. She’s often bullied. This could just be made up.”
“My daughter is not a liar,” the mother replied firmly.
“We’ll keep this in mind, but you have no evidence. And do you know that making false accusations is punishable by law?”
The mother fell silent.

“If you feel this school isn’t right for you, you’re free to transfer,” Rose added.

A few days later, Clara was called a liar and crazy by her classmates.
“She thought Derek had a grave!” shouted Jack at the playground.

Eventually, Clara transferred to another school.
No one else spoke up.

Meanwhile, Derek continued to be praised as a hero.
“He stopped the fire in the library. If it weren’t for him, the damage would’ve been big,” said Teacher Bella.
“Yeah, good thing he was there. He acted fast,” added Coach Henry.

But what most didn’t know was: Derek started the fire himself.
He intentionally lit a trash bin in the library.
Caught by CCTV, he then staged his own rescue and was celebrated in the school newsletter as the “silent hero of Fine Group Elementary.”

But not everyone was fooled.

One day, Laura, a student teacher, saw Derek pulling Olivia, a second grader, toward the old storage room.
She became suspicious and followed them.

When she got close, the door was closed.
“Mr. Derek, this is Laura. Is there a student in there with you?”
Derek opened the door, holding a mop, his brow furrowed.
“No. I’m just cleaning up some trash.”
“I saw Olivia enter with you.”
“You’re mistaken. I was alone.”

Laura stepped inside and looked around.
There really was no one… but the faint scent of children’s perfume gave her goosebumps.

That afternoon, Laura reported what she saw to Principal Rose.
The principal was silent for a few seconds before speaking:
“Do you have any evidence? Like a camera, audio, a witness?”
“No,” said Miss Laura. “But I have a strong feeling that something’s wrong.”
“You know that gut feelings don’t count in official reports,” replied the principal.
“And I don’t want this to escalate. The quality inspector is coming soon. If you raise a complaint without proof, it might ruin the school’s reputation.”

Laura swallowed hard.
Rose pulled out a piece of paper.
“This is a voluntary resignation form. If you sign this, it’s done.
I just want to protect the school.”

“I just want to protect the children,” Laura answered.
“I’m doing that too—for the good of the school.”

Laura left quietly.
Rose submitted the resignation letter to the Department of Education.

A week later, the children at Pine Rob Elementary slowly learned a lesson:

Never answer Mr. Derek.
Don’t cry when he yells.
If you’re called to the storage room, stay quiet, obey, and don’t tell anyone.

Mr. Derek taught through fear and threats.
“Don’t you dare speak up. I’ll bury you like a rat,” he said.

Some children would wet themselves in fear just from seeing his shadow.

One day, Derek was alone in the security room.
He was wiping a wooden stick beside him.
The wind whistled through the cracks in the window.

He opened a drawer and looked at an old photo of himself with three children.
Their faces had been cut out.

“Rats… You think you can escape me?” he whispered.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who’s that?” he asked.
She quickly hid the photo.
“That’s Rose. Some people have started asking about your old files. Everything’s been cleaned up, but be careful—it might all come out. Are you sure there’s no more evidence?”
Derex smiled.
“I’m the one who buried it. I’ll be the one to cover it up. The one who’s afraid is the one who dies.”

Rose remained silent, but her gaze was sharp.
Outside, the old sycamore tree swayed in the wind.
Beneath the cold earth, a dark secret lay buried.
A child had gone missing, and the monster—was Mr. Derek.
Still walking the halls of the school, still searching for the next Lucy.

That night, in a cold room at Rosewood Shelter, Alex lay wrapped in a thin blanket.
He had a high fever but couldn’t sleep.
The memories were like sharp knives slicing through his mind.
Martha, the on-duty social worker, approached. She slowly sat beside him and gently touched his shoulder.
Alex opened his eyes. His lips trembled.
“Do you really want to hear the truth?”
Martha nodded and sat down.
“I’m ready to listen.”

Alex nodded back and began to speak.
Each word that left his mouth felt like blood.

It was a week ago—Friday afternoon.
Alex and his eight-year-old sister Lucy were standing behind the tall grass in the corner of the schoolyard.
Mr. Derek was with them. There was something strange about him.
“Kids, do you want some chocolate?” he asked.
“We don’t know you,” Lucy replied.
“It’s okay,” Derek said sweetly. “But it has to be a secret, alright? We can’t do it here. The teachers might scold me. Let’s go behind the shed.”
The siblings looked at each other and nodded.
They thought it was a surprise.

But when they reached the corner of the yard, Derek’s face suddenly changed.
He slammed the door shut.
“I want to go home!” Lucy cried, trembling.
“No one screams! I hate noisy kids!” Derek shouted.
“I want Mommy!” Lucy sobbed.
Derek hit Lucy. She staggered back, bleeding.
Alex screamed.
Lucy collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
“Kuya…” was the last word she said.

Alex rushed to pick her up, but Derek grabbed his hair and threw him to the ground.
“All you know is how to cry!” he shouted in rage.
Alex sobbed.
“Please, don’t hurt Ate Lucy. Please don’t hurt her anymore. She’s still alive…”

But Derek said nothing.
He grabbed a shovel and started to dig.
“Do you know?” he panted as he dug.

“If you had gone with me, your sister might still be alive. You’re the one who killed her.”
Alex cried.
“I’m sorry… Please don’t bury her.”
Derex grinned.
“Too late.”

He picked up Lucy and threw her into the hole.
Her body hit the bottom with a dull thud.
Her favorite doll fell in too—its arm torn.
Derek slowly covered Lucy with soil.
Alex dropped to his knees, trembling and wetting himself in fear.
“It’s done,” said Derek.
He wiped his hands clean and looked at Alex like he was a worthless dog.
“You saw nothing. You heard nothing. And if you say anything…”
He leaned in close to the boy’s ear.
“I’ll dig another grave—this time for you.”

He didn’t even get to blow out a candle on his birthday.
Martha bit her lip until it bled.
She gripped Alex’s hand tightly, holding back her emotions.
“I believe you.”
“No one ever believes me,” Alex whispered.
“I crawled out. There was blood on my hands but no one stopped to help.”

He remembered everything.
After Derek left, Alex crawled across the schoolyard, slid under the fence, and cried out:
“Is anyone there? Please help me.”

A woman walking her dog—Teresa—noticed him.
“What are you doing there? Why are you so filthy?”
“Please help. My sister’s buried!”
“Ugh. Another kid acting out. Stay away from me.”
She tugged her dog and walked off.

Alex crawled back to the school gate.
It was locked.
Holding his stomach, he collapsed on the cold cement.
He spent the night there—no food, no sleep.
The winter wind lashed his face.
Over and over, he whispered:
“Lucy… don’t be afraid.”

The next morning, when students arrived, one of them spotted him.
“Hey, there’s a crazy kid here!”
“Who are you?” asked another, then kicked Alex.
He barely replied:
“Lucy… save Lucy.”

A parent came over and called security immediately.
Derek was the first to arrive.
He looked at Alex. His eyes burned, and he whispered:
“You’re still alive.”
Then turned to the parents and yelled:
“He’s not a student here. Probably a street kid trying to steal. I’ll call the police.”
“Please do,” one parent said.

Derek briefly looked at Alex’s bloody, mud-caked hands and smiled—
a cold, chilling smile.

---

In the present day, Martha could no longer bear the pain.
She picked up her phone and quietly recorded the final part of Alex’s story.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I kept my promise. I didn’t tell anyone… But my sister… she’s so cold now. I’ll do something. I promised.”
Alex shook his head.
“Don’t make promises. Everyone promises. Then they disappear.”

Martha was speechless.
That night, she opened her laptop and searched:
“Pine Group Elementary Security Guard named Derek Harper.”
Nothing came up.

So she went to a teacher’s forum and anonymously posted:
“Does anyone know a Derek Walker? Used to be at Paradise Reform Center?”
Someone replied:
“Why are you looking for him? Best not to get involved.”
Another person commented:
“Someone tried looking for him before. Then they just disappeared.”

Martha quickly closed her laptop.
Her heart pounded, but deep down, something had awakened in her.
“This child isn’t lying. And if I do nothing… more children will die. Just like Lucy.”

In her small office at Rosewood Shelter, Martha sat before a thick pile of case files.
The wind hummed through the window, and the cold morning light chilled the pages.
“He’s telling the truth,” she whispered, opening her notebook.
Written inside:
“Lucy – younger sister – buried behind Pine Group Elementary.”

She picked up the phone and dialed the Springfield Department of Education.
“Hello, this is Martha Heyis from Rosewood Shelter. I’d like to ask about a child named Alex Walker and his sister Lucy…”

The woman responded in a cold voice.
“I’m sorry. There are no students named Alex Walker or Lucy Walker in our records for Pine Group Elementary. But the child said she used to study there. If the child wasn’t officially enrolled, then the school holds no responsibility. And if there are allegations of abuse, we do not act on stories that have no solid foundation. You should bring this to the police.”
The call ended. Martha put down the phone. Her eyes were dry.

At Pine Group Elementary, Principal Rose was busy in a meeting with the teachers. In front of them was a report about the viral video showing a child screaming in the schoolyard.
“We cannot let this ruin the reputation of the school,” Rose said coldly.
“We’re close to being named the District’s Model Elementary School.”

Teacher Bella, who teaches second grade, spoke carefully.
“But the video has been widely shared, and it really seems like that child was here.”

“No,” Rose cut her off.
“I already had it checked. There’s no student named Alex in our records. And no girl named Lucy either. No one we remember.”

“But what if—” Bella began.
“There are no ‘what ifs’, Bella,” Rose interrupted again.
“What I need is control, not speculation.”

Mr. Paul sighed.
“But the public is starting to ask questions. Can’t we at least investigate the area near the sycamore tree?”

Rose slammed her pen on the table.
“Have you lost your mind? If we allow them to dig there, it’ll be like admitting we’re hiding something. I’ll say it again: we cannot let a single incident destroy this entire school. That’s an order.”

Meanwhile, at a nearby café, Martha met with an elderly woman named Laura—a former student teacher who had been forced to resign by Rose.
“Are you Laura?” Martha asked in a soft voice.

Laura nodded while clutching her coffee cup tightly.
“Yes, I taught at Pine Group. I once saw Derek with a little girl heading toward the storage shed.”

“Did you report it?”
“Yes. But Rose forced me to resign. She said if I refused, she’d send anonymous letters to other schools so I’d never be hired again.”

“Can you help me speak out? Lucy is dead. Someone has to be held accountable.”

Laura began to cry.
“Yes. I knew her. She always wore pigtails, loved to sing—and then one day, she was just gone.”

“Can you tell the police?”
Laura stared out the window as the wind rustled the pine trees.
“Yes. It’s time.”

Back at the principal’s office, Derek entered and shut the door. Rose was organizing papers but paused when she heard him.
“Laura’s back,” Derek said.
“I saw her with a social worker.”

Rose looked up sharply.
“She’s digging up the past again.”
“Looks like it,” Derek replied.
“We can’t let this spread. Everything must stay buried.”

Derek sat down, arms crossed.
“If I go down, you go down too.”

Rose gave a cold laugh.
“I’ve covered for you for a long time. You should be grateful. I’ve patched a lot of holes in this school. Don’t test me,” she warned.

Derek leaned in, whispering.
“Just try me.”

While all this was happening, Jacob—a young reporter from Castel Boys—was reviewing the viral video of the child screaming. He zoomed in.

“Look at this,” Jacob said. “A barefoot kid, hands covered in mud, screaming ‘Give me back my sister!’”
His companion replied, “He looks like a desperate child.”

Jacob searched for Pine Group Elementary and Derek Harper. Nothing came up. But when he dug into old records, he discovered that Derek used to work at Paradise Reform Center and was dismissed due to several complaints.

He called Martha after finding her old post on the forum.
“Hello, is this Martha? I’m Jacob, a reporter. I found something about Derek.”
“Go ahead,” Martha replied.
“His file’s been erased, but I still have a copy. There were complaints against him. Serious ones. We need to talk.”

The next day, during a Department of Education conference, Principal Rose spoke in front of dozens of principals and teachers.
“At Pine Group Elementary, we prioritize safety and proper conduct. We do not turn a blind eye to wrongdoing.”
The crowd applauded, but at the back of the room, Jacob was quietly recording, eyes fixed on the fake smile on Rose’s face. He texted Martha:
“It’s time. We’re going to expose everything.”

That same afternoon, a man named Mr. Anthony passed through the park and noticed a boy huddled on a bench, bruises on his face, and looking weak.
“Are you okay, son?” he asked.
“I don’t have a home,” the boy replied.
“What’s your name?”
“Alex.”
“Is there someone I can call for you?”
“No. No one believes me anyway.”

Mr. Anthony looked at him, sorrowful. He called his wife.
“Sweetheart, for the first time… I saw a child the whole world has turned its back on.”

That evening, Rose received an anonymous email.
Subject line: I know where the body is buried.
Message: It’s time to dig, Mrs. Rose.

That same day, there was an inspection at Rosewood Shelter. Mold-covered walls were hidden behind colorful paper. The staff was instructed to smile, be polite, and make sure none of the children cried. Alex was locked in a private room so the inspection team wouldn’t see him.

He sat there, hugging his knees, staring at the white wall like it was a burial shroud.

Outside, Miss Susan spoke with Mr. Edward Dowson, a newly reinstated social welfare officer—graying, respectable in appearance.
“That child, Alex, right?” Edward asked.
“I heard he was taken to Pine Group Elementary. That’s just a lie,” Susan replied.
“There’s no record of him. No parents. And crazy. Would you still want to meet him?”

Susan frowned.
“Sir, he’s in a delicate state. He talks nonsense. It’s better not to disturb him.”
“I’m the supervisor of these children. I have authority.”
In the end, she reluctantly accompanied Edward to the room.

When they entered, Alex looked up. His eyes were sunken, lips cracked and bleeding.
“Is your name Alex?” Edward asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”

Alex looked at Susan, then lowered his head.
“If I speak, they’ll just say I’m crazy again.”
Edward sat down gently.
“That won’t happen here. We’ll listen.”

“They’ve said that before,” Alex whispered.
Slowly, he began to speak—about Lucy, about the wooden stick, and the doll with the broken arm.
Edward stayed silent, listening, while his expression slowly turned grave.

But Susan… she just laughed.
“Sir, that’s the usual story around here.”

Children who run away from home often like to make up stories to gain sympathy.
Edward looked at him with suspicion.
“Are you dismissing the testimony of a child who’s clearly struggling?”
Alex bit his lip and said softly,
“I’ve been to so many places. I said, ‘Please help me.’ But no one believed me.”
Edward nodded, his eyes filled with sadness.
“Alright, I’ll talk to the police again.”

But two days passed. When Edward officially submitted a request to reopen the case, this was the station’s response:
“The case has already been reviewed. There is no report of any missing child matching the testimony. There is also no record of Lucy or Alex at Pine Group Elementary.
There is insufficient evidence to conduct an investigation.”

Furious, Edward called the police.
“Do you know what I have? A statement from a six-year-old child. He even described the soil behind the school in detail.”
On the other end of the line, Officer Brian sighed.
“There’s an order from higher up. No digging. No escalation.
There’s politics involved. This school is about to be turned into a model institution for the entire country.”
Edward shouted in anger,
“Are you telling me you’re covering up a corpse for the sake of politics?”
“There’s no corpse. We can’t ruin people’s careers based on the story of an unverified child.”
Edward gripped the phone tightly.
“What if I leak this to the media?”
“We’ll say you’re a lunatic obsessed with conspiracy theories.”
And then the line went dead.

The next day, Alex was walking through the market.
He saw some bread at a stall owned by Aling Linda, the elderly vendor who was busy assisting a customer.
Quietly, Alex approached, picked up the bread, and whispered,
“I’m sorry… I’m just really hungry.”
Suddenly, Aling Linda screamed,
“Thief! Bread thief!”
People swarmed the area. A man grabbed the boy’s arm.
“Isn’t this that same boy from that video? Pretending to have a story about a dead child?”
A man kicked Alex.
“Child actors pretending to be poor and stealing too? Pathetic liars!”
A child nearby yelled,
“You’re so filthy!”

No one asked if he was hurt.
No one asked why he was barefoot in the middle of winter.
All people did was take a video of him while laughing at him.

The next day, the video was uploaded to social media with the title:
“Child Actor Lucy is Dead. Now Stealing Bread at the Market.”
And the cruel comments came pouring in:
“Just send that kid to a mental hospital.”
“Looks like a creepy doll.”
“Attention-seeker.”
“Lock up all these kids who invent stories.”

Jacob, a young journalist, watched the video, trembling with anger.
He called Martha.
“We can’t just let this go.
They’re turning a victim into a joke.”
“If I write about this, who will publish it?” Martha asked.
“My newspaper is controlled by the same education officials trying to cover this all up.”
“We have no other option,” Jacob replied.
“I’ll talk to Alex. I’ll record a video and post it under my own name.”
“They’ll sue you.”
“Let them.”

As long as someone listens to the child, I will not remain silent.
It was already evening when Jacob arrived at Rosewood Shelter.
Alex was sitting in a corner, hugging a doll with a broken arm — a memory of Lucy.
“Was it really her?” Jacob asked, kneeling in front of him.
Alex nodded.

“Do you still want people to know the truth?”
Alex looked at him. For the first time in days, a spark of light returned to his eyes.
“I promised her. I’ll keep telling the story until someone listens.”

Jacob turned on the camera.
Alex began to speak — without hesitation, without fear.
When the video ended, Jacob looked at him.
“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
But Alex whispered,
“I’m still scared. When they see this, they’ll say I’m lying. They’ll hurt me.”

“Not this time,” Jacob said. “I’ll be the one to stand in front. I won’t leave you. Not like the others.”
He held Alex’s cold hand.
Alex held on tightly.

Three days later, Jacob uploaded the video to his personal channel.
The caption read: “The Story of a Child Silenced by Society.”
It went viral — over a million views in just three days.

But Jacob received an anonymous message:
“If you don’t take this down, we’ll sue you — and the child.”
The newspaper called him in.
“Jacob, you’re suspended.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.
“You dragged the name of the organization through the mud. We want no part of it.”

Jacob walked out of the building — jobless, but with his head held high.
For the first time, someone listened to a child and didn’t abandon them.

On the edge of Springfield, the cold wind howled.
On Jacob’s laptop, Alex’s video was still playing.
It had now reached over a million views, and slowly, the comments were changing:

“That’s not made up — the way he talks is real.”
“I studied at Pine Group Elementary in 2017. We were terrified of Derek.”
“Does anyone know which Skymore tree it was? I want to go there.”

Jacob looked at Martha, sitting across from him in a small café near the bus station.
“It’s time to go back.”
“Are you sure?” Martha asked nervously.
“What if they stop us?”
“They can silence me, but they can’t hide a child forever.”

The next day, Jacob met with the new police chief of the city, Steven Carter, recently appointed due to departmental changes.
After hearing the story, Steven spoke slowly:
“You’re telling me there’s a girl buried inside the schoolyard, and the entire education system is covering it up. Do you have any evidence?”

“They say the boy is just crazy, but the details he gave matched — the shovel marks on the tree, even the blood on his hands in the video.”

Steven was silent for a few seconds, then took a deep breath.
“I’ll allow an investigation. But understand, the pressure I’ll face is enormous. You’re the last person we trust.”

The next day, Alex sat in the back of a police vehicle between Jacob and Martha.
He wore a blue sweater and clutched the broken doll tightly.

“Are you sure it’s here?” Jacob asked.
Alex nodded, eyes locked on the trees in the Pine Group Elementary yard.
The school gates had been temporarily closed.
Media had begun to arrive, seeing the police tape and forensic tents.

A reporter from NBC News whispered,
“I hear there’s really a body here. This is today’s headline.”

Inside the yard, the forensic team began their work.
Steven asked Alex, “Can you help us? Show us exactly where.”
Alex walked across the gravel.
His old shoes made almost no sound.
He went straight to the Skymore tree in the center of the yard, walked around it, and stopped.

“Here,” his voice trembled.
“Are you sure?” a forensic officer asked.
“My sister is buried here.”

Jacob stood beside him.
Martha held Alex’s hand.

Steven stepped back and gave the order: “Start digging.”

Dozens of former students and parents had gathered outside the fence.
Teacher Bella stood behind the gate and whispered,
“Could this really be true?”
A parent shouted,
“I saw a girl — Lucy. Round face. Twin tails. My kid said she called him from the back once.”

Mr. Paul, a veteran teacher, turned pale.
“It’s terrifying to think we’ve lived near a crime we never knew about.”

Twenty minutes passed.
Silence.
Only the sound of shovels and wind.

Alex stood still, eyes closed, hands clenched tightly.

Then a technician suddenly yelled,
“Found it!”
Everyone looked into the pit.

A white fabric stained with mud, with a stitched design, emerged from the soil.
A small, grayish hand.
A faded purple nightgown.
And a piece of cloth from the broken doll.

Jacob couldn’t hold back his tears.
Martha covered her mouth.
Alex stood frozen, then screamed.
“Can you see her?!”
His cry shattered the silence.
People rushed to restrain him as he tried to jump into the pit.

Martha hugged him tightly.
“You don’t have to dig anymore, Alex. You found her.”
But he kept shouting over and over,
“She was here the whole time — and you left her!”

At the Department of Education, Principal Rose was in a meeting when her office phone rang.
It was the Chief of Staff.
A call from Springfield PD.
“They found the body.”

“What body?” Rose asked.

“Lucy. A girl buried in the schoolyard.”

She dropped her coffee.

Meanwhile, Derek was hiding in an abandoned field 40 kilometers from the border.
He was preparing fake documents to flee to Mexico.
He turned off the TV but not before seeing the news: a muddy white bag being pulled from the ground.

The anchor said:
“Confirmed remains of missing child Lucy Walker found at Pine Group Elementary, validating the testimony of her brother, Alex.”

Furious, Derek threw a bottle of liquor at the wall.
Then came the sound of police sirens.
“Open up, Derek Walker. You’re under arrest for murder.”

He tried to escape through the back, but three officers were waiting.
He was taken and handcuffed.
“You have no evidence!” he shouted.

A police officer leaned in and said quietly,
“We have a body — and a child smarter than you thought.”

Jacob knelt and picked up the piece of fabric from the doll.
Alex remained seated, unmoving.

“Do you want to keep this?” Jacob asked.
The boy nodded and hugged the broken doll tightly to his chest.
The wind still blew, but he no longer shivered from the cold.
Because beneath the earth, they had found his sister — and at last, everyone had seen the truth.

Jacob looked at Martha.
“We didn’t save Lucy… but maybe we saved Alex.”
Martha didn’t answer.
She only lowered her head as silent tears fell.

By the afternoon, police had installed a fence around the site.
Beside a bunch of white flowers stood a temporary photo of a little girl.

Alex stood quietly, still holding the broken doll.

This is the story.
A six-year-old boy named Alex revealed the dark secret of their school.
The body of his sister, Lucy Walker, was buried in the yard of Pine Group Elementary.

For a long time, no one believed Alex. They called him crazy.
But with the help of journalist Jacob, the truth was exposed.

Derek, a guard with a dark past, was arrested.
He had been involved in a series of child abuse and murders.
Principal Rose was also charged for covering up the crime.

More victims from other schools were discovered.
The case shook the entire nation.

Jacob wrote a powerful article and spoke at a national conference, calling for reforms in the education system and better protection for children.
The government responded with major reforms.

Alex, who stayed temporarily in a recovery center, slowly began to heal.
Eventually, Jacob and Martha decided to adopt him.
He was given a new family.
And amid the memories of his sister, he found hope.