A father and daughter vanished in the Pyrenees—five years later, hikers stumble upon what was hidden deep in a mountain crevice.

 

“He was marking his path,” Morel said. “He was trying to be found.”

Three meters lower lay the second anomaly: a metallic food wrapper with an expiration date two years after the disappearance.

“Could someone have stayed down here?” one technician murmured.

“Or someone found Julián and Clara,” Morel replied. “And said nothing.”

The crevice soon widened into an irregular pocket of space. There, under layers of dust, lay remnants of a makeshift camp: a thermal blanket, an empty can, rope fragments—and, soaking in a corner, another notebook.

Many pages were ruined, but some words survived: “can’t get up,” “wait,” “injured,” “we hear voices.” The handwriting appeared to be Julián’s.

One line froze the entire team:

“I can’t move. She must stay…”

It ended abruptly.

“Julián was hu:rt,” Morel said softly. “And Clara… she was still alive.”

But neither body was present.

Even more unsettling: someone had been counting days. Three vertical scratches repeated over and over lined the wall.

At least thirty marks.