Story Excerpt

Senior university student Meira Jensen sank into the chair across from Professor Olsen's desk. She dropped her backpack on the floor with a thud. Outside the Logan, Utah campus window, autumn was turning the leaves along the Old Main quad into brilliant shades of gold and crimson, but Meira felt entirely uninspired. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face and met the slightly older woman's eyes.

Professor Olsen raised her eyebrow. "The deadline for your investigative journalism project is approaching. Have you decided on a topic?"

Meira shrugged, slouching down further in her seat. "I want to do something more exciting than another report on corrupt politicians or evil corporations. Something that matters."

The Journalism professor leaned forward, folding her hands on top of a stack of ungraded papers. "And why do you think stories about corruption or corporate malfeasance aren't important?"

"No one reads them," Meira grumbled, averting her gaze. Her fingernail traced a groove carved in the armrest. "At best, they cause a momentary stir, nothing changes, and readers go about their lives."

Olsen regarded her thoughtfully. "If intrigue is what you're looking for..." She rifled through a folder on her desk and pulled out a photocopied flyer with two young men's student ID photos on it. "Have you heard about the missing sophomores from the College of East Utah campus?"

Meira took the flyer, skimming over the details for Tom Almonte and Gerald Harden. "Last seen hiking near Green River two weeks ago." She glanced up, eyes shining with interest. "What happened to them?"

Olsen spread her hands. "Nobody knows."

Meira stared at the flyer. "I'll do it," she said, looking up. "People love a good mystery."

Olsen smiled. "Excellent. I look forward to seeing what you uncover." She leaned back. "Now, where do you plan to start? What angles will you pursue?"

Meira's brow furrowed. "Well, I'll need to learn everything I can about them. What were they doing out there? Did they have enemies or get tangled up in something dangerous? I'll talk to law enforcement, their friends and families, piece together their last known movements."

She rapped the flyer eagerly. "And I'll have to visit all their last known locations."

"Track all your expenses and be careful," Olsen cautioned. "This may be an exciting story, but don't become an addendum to their mystery by getting into danger yourself."

Meira nodded, chastened. "Of course. Someone needs to find answers, for their families' sake."

Clutching her notebook to her chest, Meira grabbed her bag and strode out the door, mind whirling. She had a mystery to solve.

* * *

Back in her apartment, Meira called the Green River police department. They advised her to call the Emery County sheriff's department. A gruff-voiced deputy picked up and informed her they had found Gerald's old four-by-four pickup truck—and an empty trailer attached to it—abandoned at the end of Hastings Road near the river, but the trail went cold after that.

"Any new leads on where they might have been heading?" she asked.

The deputy hesitated before replying, "Can't disclose active investigation details to the public."

She understood his reluctance but pressed further. "I'm an investigative journalist and know that's cop talk for, 'We've hit a dead end.' Can you at least give me their parents' contact info?"

He sighed. "Alright, but this stays between us. Here's the mom's cell." He gave Meira a number and ended the call.

She immediately called Gerald's mom, Sarah.

The woman picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi Sarah, my name's Meira Jensen. I'm an investigative reporter looking into your son's disappearance. The sheriff's department suggested I reach out."

Sarah's voice trembled with fragile hope. "Do they have any new updates?" The raw desperation in her voice tightened Meira's throat; suddenly, this wasn't just a project for a grade.

"Unfortunately, nothing concrete yet," Meira replied. "I was hoping you could provide some context. Do you have any idea why they would skip classes to go to Green River?"

Sarah's sigh carried a weary resignation. "Gerald was a good boy—studious and responsible—before Tom became his roommate. Our family made sacrifices so he could go to college to better himself, not become a troublemaker. He's majoring in Agricultural Sciences to help run the family farm, not waste his time on silly internet videos."

Meira jumped on the opening. "It might help if I understood Gerald better."

For fifteen minutes, Sarah praised Gerald, mentioned his favorite chocolate-peanut-butter candy bar, and told Meira how much she missed him.

"Would it be okay if I searched his dorm room for clues?" Meira asked.

Sarah hesitated. "If you find anything sex or drug related, are you going to write something that would ruin their reputations? They're college boys, and as much as I hate to think about those things..."

"I'm only interested in the story of their disappearance."

With her voice cracking, Sarah pleaded, "Please, Miss Jensen, find my boy."

Meira thanked her before calling the administration office at Utah State University College of East Utah. She explained who she was and her intent to investigate the boys' disappearance on behalf of the families.

The administrative assistant's tone shifted from polite to suspicious. "Are you with law enforcement or a private investigator?"

"No, I'm a student journalist at the Logan campus working on an investigative report for class."

"I'm afraid I can't provide any information about current or former students then," the assistant stated flatly. "Privacy laws, you understand."

"But surely the school wants to cooperate in locating these missing boys?" Meira pressed. "Why hasn't the administration made finding Tom and Gerald more of a priority?"

An exasperated sigh was followed by, "Look, they weren't exactly model students. Always skipping classes, pulling pranks for their 'Tom and Jerry Prank-Bros' TikTok channel. Not well-liked by their peers or professors."

Meira frowned. "So you're saying because they were unpopular, their wellbeing isn't as important?"

"That's not what I said at all," the assistant replied, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. "They disappeared off-campus, hours away. Campus police have no jurisdiction, so we're leaving it to the authorities."

"I see," Meira said coolly. "So unless someone is a stellar student, the university doesn't care if they go missing or not?"

The assistant put Meira on hold to speak with the Dean of Students. Meira waited so long she thought the woman had forgotten about her.

"The Dean will allow you into their room," the woman finally returned to say, "on the condition the school gets to approve your article before you publish. The school can't have a poorly written or hyperbolic student article tarnish our reputation."

The insinuation made her blood boil, but Meira agreed.