In 1986, five children vanished during a school field trip, along with the bus that carried them. For decades, the mystery haunted Hallstead County—until a construction crew unearthed the rusted bus, buried deep beneath Pine Hollow. Inside were eerie remnants of that day: a pink lunchbox, a mossy shoe, seatbelts still buckled—yet no bodies. Then came the hospital call. A woman had been found wandering barefoot, dehydrated, her clothes torn. Barely conscious, she whispered a name long etched on the missing list. She claimed she was still twelve, and when asked who she was, she said…

The Vanished Bus

It was barely light when Deputy Sheriff Mara Collins got the call. She was halfway through her first cup of coffee when the dispatcher’s voice cut through the static:
“Construction crew near Pine Hollow hit metal. Looks like a buried school bus. Plates match a cold case.”

Mara’s stomach dropped. She didn’t need the file—she already knew the story. In 1986, five children had vanished on a school field trip. That morning, she’d been stuck at home with chickenpox, watching from her bedroom window as her classmates waved from the bus. She was nine years old then. Guilt had followed her into adulthood.

The road to Pine Hollow was swallowed in fog, lined with pines that stood like mourners. Mara drove past the abandoned ranger station, the same one the kids were supposed to visit before summer break. She remembered the old yearbook photo—smiling faces pressed against glass, cassette players hanging from their necks, cartoon lunchboxes clutched tight.