In early February 2004, 21-year-old Maura Murray was a nursing student at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Smart, athletic, and known for her quiet determination, Maura had once attended United States Military Academy at West Point before transferring to UMass to pursue nursing. On the surface, she looked like someone building a future — clinical rotations, classes, a tight circle of family. But in the days leading up to February 9th, there were fractures forming beneath that surface. A few days earlier, Maura had been involved in a minor car accident while driving her father’s vehicle after a late night out. No one was seriously hurt, but it was another stressor layered onto an already heavy week. There were academic pressures. There were questions about her personal life. There were small, seemingly isolated events that, in hindsight, feel like pieces of a larger puzzle. Then came Monday, February 9, 2004. That afternoon, Maura emailed her professors and supervisor, saying there had been a death in her family and she would be gone for a few days. There had been no death. She withdrew nearly all the money from her bank account — just under $300. She purchased alcohol. She packed some belongings. She printed directions to northern New Hampshire — specifically to the White Mountains area, near Bartlett. And then she left campus. What’s haunting is how ordinary it all seemed at the time. College students take breaks. They drive to clear their heads. They don’t always tell everyone where they’re going. As evening fell, Maura drove north in her black Saturn sedan. The further she traveled from Massachusetts, the darker and more rural the roads became. Snowbanks lined stretches of highway. Temperatures hovered below freezing. By nightfall, she would be hundreds of miles from campus, on a quiet stretch of road in Haverhill, New Hampshire. And within minutes, everything would change. But up until that moment — she was just a young woman driving into the winter night, with a destination in mind and questions she may or may not have planned to answer. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
