"Gotcha," James said under his breath, staring at the screen.
He had finally found her.
Her name was Tami. It took him a week to confirm it. He used burner accounts, reverse image searches, Reddit threads, and video tutorials from obscure corners of YouTube. Every click, every late night, every dead end... it all led here.
Her Instagram page wasn't private. He scrolled slowly. Pictures from school events. Friends tagging her in birthday posts. One photo of her sitting at a cafe, smiling at the camera like she didn't have a care in the world.
"So she's also a student at Princeton" He said while staring at a picture of her at a school event.
"No one gets to guilt trip me about what happened that night," he said quietly, "except me."
But then the thought hit him.
Now that I've found you… what am I supposed to do next? He had spent so much time searching, he never planned for what came after.
***
While James was busy chasing digital trails, Tami went old-school. The social kind of investigation.
She wasn't just lying around waiting for another notification to pop up. She was asking questions.
It started small. A few casual chats with other teens in the youth church, pretending it was nothing serious.
"Hey, do you know that guy? Kinda tall, always quiet... came alone last Sunday?"
But nobody seemed to have much to say.
Apparently, James didn't talk to anyone at church. Not even small talk. No hellos, no goodbyes. Like he was trying not to be noticed.
So she went deeper. She didn't know his name or have much to go off.. just his face. But that didn't stop her.
There's always one in every church. An elder woman, always seated in the same pew, always watching. She doesn't talk much during service, but after church? She knows things. Who's dating who. Who failed what class. Who wore the same outfit two Sundays in a row. The unofficial gossip hub.
Tami approached the elderly woman seated near the front row of the church hall. She had observed her earlier, noting how familiar she seemed with everyone who passed by. If there was anyone who might know something, it would be her.
With a polite smile, Tami greeted her. "Excuse me ma'am."
The woman looked up calmly, her expression thoughtful. "Hello little one."
"I wanted to ask," Tami began, keeping her tone respectful, "do you happen to know the name of the boy who sat at the back row today? He left before the service ended."
The woman tilted her head slightly. "At the back?"
Tami gave a small nod. "Yes, tall, brown skin, quiet. I don't think he spoke to anyone."
The woman considered it for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "Ah, yes. I believe I know who you mean. His sister visited once and spoke with me briefly. They live not too far from here." She paused. "If I remember correctly, his name is James."
Tami repeated the name under her breath. "James."
The woman gave her a curious look. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering" Tami replied softly, offering a polite smile. "He looked a bit familiar." she lied.
The woman didn't press further, but her eyes lingered on Tami as she nodded. Tami thanked her and turned to leave.
She had what she came for. Now, she had a name.
***
"I don't think I should go any further…" James said, staring at the screen. His mouse hovered over her Instagram page, but he didn't click anything. He just sat there.
It wasn't fear of what he'd find. It was fear of what it might mean. If she really knew… or if she was that girl from back then… It would mean the past was catching up with him now, but he didn't want any part of it.
He had already moved on from that time in his life. Or at least, he was trying to. He had buried it, prayed over it, and left it behind. But the guilt still followed him. Not because people would judge him, he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was the feeling that God might have turned His face away.
That was what scared him the most.
He didn't want to explain himself. He didn't want to open up old wounds. He didn't want anyone else involved in something he had already placed in God's hands.
"If she really knows… then fine" he thought. "Let her know. I'm not hiding. But I don't want to go back there. I don't even want to talk about it."
He wasn't sure he had been forgiven. He just hoped he had. He hadn't gotten a sign. No dream. No word. Just silence. But he still held on. He held on to his Faith.
That's all he was looking for now, some kind of sign that God hadn't given up on him. A small reminder that He was still there.
"I've already said everything I had to say," James whispered. "If she knows, then so be it. I just want to know that God hasn't left me because of it."