Chapter 43 - The Search of Lindsay

The paper felt slightly crumpled between my fingers as I reread the first clue. Unlike Olivia's, which were exaggeratedly dramatic, or mine, which tried to be creative, Sack's clues were concise, direct, without unnecessary embellishments, but with a touch of dry wit that made them unmistakably his.

"If you're looking for what I hid, go to the place where everything begins and ends each day. Don't take too long."

I furrowed my brow, but a lopsided smile formed on my lips. That was Sack—brief and enigmatic. I thought about how he saw things, how he spoke when he really made an effort to do so. 'The place where everything begins and ends each day.'

I looked around the campus, breathing in the fresh evening air that was slowly fading into the last warm tones of sunset. I remembered our conversation before we started the treasure hunt, when we met at the cafeteria. We had talked a little about the clues, about how Olivia would make us run all over campus, and about how Sack, in his quiet but attentive way, observed every detail without really showing it.

It was Olivia who insisted on making the treasure hunt as challenging as possible, but Sack… he did it his way. He didn't complicate things with convoluted clues or intricate riddles, but with messages that required understanding how he viewed the world. And now, his first clue led me to a place that only made sense if I thought about it from his perspective.

"The dormitory," I murmured to myself, feeling how the answer clicked with calm certainty.

I headed toward the dormitories, walking briskly. The cool evening air enveloped me, and for a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the simple fact of being here, sharing this with them. Despite how competitive Olivia could be, despite how reserved Sack was, there was something about this treasure hunt that made us feel connected, even though each of us was following our own path with different clues.

When I arrived at the entrance to the dormitory, I paused for a moment. If Sack followed his pattern of thinking, the clue wouldn't be just anywhere inside the building, but in a specific spot. 'Where everything begins and ends each day.' I didn't need to enter my room to know. I turned and looked toward the benches near the entrance, the place where we usually waited before parting ways at the end of the day or meeting up in the morning.

And there it was.

Taped to the backrest of one of the benches was a small white note with Sack's crisp handwriting. I carefully peeled it off and read it:

"Good. You didn't take long. Now look where people move without thinking, but you stop.

First digit: 7."

I tucked the note into my pocket, feeling a small wave of satisfaction. With the first number in mind, I moved forward.

It didn't take me long to figure out the answer. Unlike most people who simply passed by without much thought, I often stopped in certain places, lost in my thoughts, observing my surroundings. One of those places was the main crossroads of the campus. Most students just walked through it without looking too closely, rushing to class or their activities, but I often paused there, right at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the comings and goings of people, letting myself be absorbed by the movement around me.

I walked there with determined steps, weaving through groups of students who passed by without noticing me. When I reached the crossroads, I looked around, searching the signposts or nearby benches. Finally, at the base of one of the lampposts, I spotted another note discreetly taped there. I crouched down to pick it up and unfolded it.

"Good intuition. Now go where words are abundant, and ideas flow.

Second digit: 3."

I smiled to myself as I tucked the note away. The next destination was clear: the library.

When I arrived, I walked through the aisles with familiarity, feeling the calmness that the place always offered me. I knew the clue wouldn't be just anywhere, but in the corner where we spent the most time. I approached the section of classic literature and ran my fingers along the spines of the books until I found a small piece of paper hidden between the pages of Pride and Prejudice . I smiled tenderly at Sack's choice. I opened the note.

"I knew you'd come here. Now look where your laughter is always heard.

Third digit: 9."

When I arrived at the auditorium, the place was silent, wrapped in that special stillness that only empty spaces can offer. The seats were perfectly arranged, and the light of the sunset filtered through the high windows, faintly illuminating the rows. I knew exactly where to look. I walked toward the back row, where Sack used to sit with us during our visits. There, taped to the back of one of the seats, I found another note. I carefully peeled it off and unfolded it. On it, alongside his crisp handwriting, was a message that made me smile:

"Remember that place where notes float and conversations sound clearer.

Fourth digit: 5."

The music room. Of course. It was obvious now that I thought about it—there had been a funny event with Olivia in that place as a group, one of her many attempts to become a singer and drag us into forming a band with her. I tucked the note into my pocket and left the auditorium.

When I arrived at the music room, I opened the door slowly. What caught my attention was Sack. On the other side of the room, near one of the walls, there he was.

We stood in silence for a moment, but then exchanged a few words. His way of speaking, calm and unhurried, confirmed that I was on the right track. It didn't take me long to find the next note, discreetly taped to the edge of a shelf with sheet music.

"Well done. Now look where memories are engraved.

Fourth digit: 2."

I smiled, tucking the note into my pocket. I knew what the final destination was: the campus projection room.

When I arrived, I searched through the shelves until I found a small chest. I entered the numbers into the lock: 7-3-9-2. A soft click indicated that I had gotten it right.

Inside the chest, there was a delicately engraved silver bracelet with the name "Sack" on it. Next to it was a carefully folded letter. My heart began to race as I took the letter in my hands. I unfolded it slowly, both dreading and longing for what it might say.

Sack's handwriting was crisp, but there was something in the words that made me pause. Each stroke seemed charged with contained emotion, as if he had thought about them for a long time before writing them down.

"This bracelet was given to me by my mother on my thirteenth birthday. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. She always had a smile on her face, even when things weren't going well. She told me, 'For someone special.' At the time, I thought she said it because it was my birthday, but now I understand that she meant something deeper. She wanted me to know that someday I would find someone as important to me as she was to me.

My mother used to tell me that the important people in our lives leave indelible marks, even if they aren't always visible. She said that when you find someone like that, you should hold on to them because not everyone is lucky enough to cross paths with someone who truly matters. Someone who makes you feel whole, even when the world seems chaotic. Someone who makes you laugh when you think there's nothing left to smile about. Someone who listens when no one else does.

I didn't have much time with her after that. She left too soon, and this bracelet became one of the few things I had left of her. For years, I kept it, unsure if I would ever find someone special enough to give it to. But now… I think I've found that person.

Lindsay, you are that person for me. I don't know if you realize how much you mean to me, but I want you to know that you are important. More than you probably imagine. You are the only person who truly understands me, who sees beyond my silence and my quirks. Who makes me want to be better, even if I don't say it out loud. This bracelet is for you because if my mother were here, I know she would say the same thing I'm saying now: you are someone special."

My eyes filled with tears as I read the last lines. I felt a lump in my throat, so tight that I could barely breathe. Sack's words echoed in my mind, mingling with memories of all the moments we had shared together. I remembered the quiet conversations, the laughter in the cafeteria, the small gestures we never mentioned but always meant something more.

I placed the letter on my lap and held the bracelet in my hands. It was simple, but beautiful, like everything that came from him. I gently ran my fingers over it, feeling the weight of what it meant. I never imagined that Sack could open up this way, that he could express something so profound without saying it directly.

Tears began to roll down my cheeks, warm and silent. I didn't try to stop them. I needed to cry, to let out everything I was feeling at that moment. Because now I understood something I had always suspected but never fully admitted: I was important to Sack. And he was important to me. And Olivia… Olivia was the glue that held us together, the spark that always lit up our days, even when the world seemed dark.

I put the bracelet on my wrist, feeling how it fit perfectly, as if it had always belonged there. I looked toward the horizon, where the sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in warm tones. I thought about Sack's mother, about how she would have felt seeing her son become the person he was now. How proud she would be of him.

For the first time in a long while, I felt that everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. That, despite everything we had been through, we had found something true. Something that connected us in a way that didn't need words.