Cleaning out his study, she found the drive labeled: “Night he disappeared.”

“Mira,” he said. “The last bus isn’t for the living. It’s for the ones who never made it home. Someone has to drive.”

An old woman in a green coat. Mira recognized her from a missing poster—1987. The woman sat in the back, never blinking. Then a young man with a cassette player. 1994. A child carrying a red balloon. 2003.