The forest was noisy with whispers and rustling leaves as we pressed deeper into its territory. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, illuminating dappled patterns on the forest floor.
Each step we took was accompanied by the crunch of twigs and the distant calls of unseen birds. The air was stale with the earthy scent of moss and wood. It was such a contrast to the growing unease that nibbled at my gut.
Luis Miguel who was usually full of talks was tensely silent as he trudged beside me. His eyes darted around, scanning the underbrush, hope lying in their depths. I could sense the turmoil brewing within him. I could see the storm of fear and desperation he was fighting hard to contain.
I couldn't blame him. I was not the one whose best friends were missing, yet, I could feel the tension brewing beneath my skin as the fear of the boys' lives bubbled within me.
