FH

Eight years.Eight years since fifteen-year-old Daniel Banks walked out of his front door and disappeared without a trace. No body was ever found. No ransom note ever arrived. No confirmed sightings ever led anywhere. For the first two years, his face was everywhere—television broadcasts, newspaper front pages, missing person posters slowly fading beneath rain and sunlight. Detectives chased hundreds of leads, interviewed countless witnesses, searched forests, rivers, abandoned buildings, and every inch of the small town that swore someone had to know something. They found nothing. One by one, the officers assigned to the investigation were reassigned. Witnesses moved away. Memories blurred. Evidence collected dust inside neatly labelled boxes stacked in a forgotten archive. The last official update came six years ago. Since then, Daniel Banks has become another unsolved mystery. Another cold case. To the public, he is a tragic story. To his family, he is the empty chair at every birthday, every Christmas, every year that passed without answers. Most people stopped asking what happened. But someone never forgot