Mayte Picazo speaks through a voice worn by pain, recalling the day when her sister Ana Isabel Picazo disappeared days after her mother’s car, a Citroën 15, was driven away and left behind the house. The family, once anchored by an athlete, a swimmer, an English teacher, and a dedicated educator, has endured a long, grueling search. Mayte notes that her sister left home at age 39, turning 41, during a strict curfew and without a goodbye. The door closed behind him and he vanished into the night.
January 2021 arrived with numbers of infection that barely told the real story. Spain was signaling normalcy, yet relief did not come. Tarazona de la Mancha in Albacete declared a curfew that began at 10 pm, restricting movement between municipalities except for labor, education, and essential services. Mayte explains that Anabel left home on January 28 in Tarazona de la Mancha; that night she set off at nine and reached Albacete, staying only a few hours in a hotel that was not paid for. When housekeeping checked the room, alarms sounded.
“I’ve been imprisoned for days”
The family home sits on two floors, with the elder father long gone by suicide a few years earlier. Neither Mayte nor Anabel lived in town most of the time; they returned only as the pandemic began. Anabel, who lived on the second floor, isolated herself. Normally the sisters would share meals downstairs, but those routines faded as days passed. Mayte recalls the days when her sister would come down to eat, then vanish again. The last moment she remembers is a quiet ride up the stairs that felt almost ceremonial, followed by the moment she heard nothing after that call and the door closing behind Anabel for good.
“The moment the hotel cleaner walked in, everything changed; salt and rosemary and moving objects filled the room,” says Mayte. The family received a call from the hotel below, learning that Anabel had left in the mother’s car, promising to settle the bill later because a man would collect the money. The cleaner’s arrival brought an unsettling stillness to the room. Anabel’s belongings were sparse, a jacket left behind, a city winter’s chill in the air. She had left without a jacket in winter after the brutal storm Filomena, just before the cold set in. The implication was that a man had the phone at the hotel, but it turned out not to be there.
Off, unable to call
The pandemic froze many possibilities. Travel and independent searching were out of the question. The family waited, hoping for a trace or a call that never came. They filed a complaint, but the absence continued to weigh heavily. Investigators considered a voluntary escape among the possibilities, yet the unanswered questions persisted as the weeks turned into months. A car appeared later, still with the keys inside, a bag of food, a 50 euro bill, water, utensils, and a chocolate donut with a box of ready-made salad. It was almost as if someone had left in a hurry, leaving behind documents, a credit card, money, and no clothing to show for the journey.
The bag contained a ticket to the gas station and a camera record from the organization showing Anabel walking on foot to the station alone. The trail suggested the possibility she might have traveled only when near train or bus stations, a clue that left investigators with more questions than answers. Mayte notes that the area was combed and the wells searched, yet nothing concrete emerged.
neither train nor bus
No clear trace emerged, only hope tied to the car that could reveal her path. The Civil Guard imaged the home again; first a superficial sweep, then a more thorough review of the computer and phone. The phone proved elusive during the investigation, complicating further attempts to piece together Anabel’s movements. A year later, Mayte pressed for access to the digital devices; she describes pushing through the process with judicial help. The family continues to hope for a sign, some indication of her whereabouts or fate.
Albacete soon wore the weight of Anabel’s absence. The plea echoed through the town: something happened to her, but the exact circumstances remained unclear. The grief was compounded by the pandemic and the family’s return to a town that did not feel quite the same as before.
colombian sect
Hypotheses swirled around the home scene, including the possibility that Anabel could be dead or involved in a cult. The family’s search for answers took them into past connections and distant places. Anabel had, years earlier, withdrawn into a private world, spending time in Colombia and Spain. A one-way trip with no refund left questions in her sister’s mind, suggesting the possibility of involvement with spiritual groups. The influence of her father’s death added another layer of vulnerability, pushing Anabel toward isolation before she disappeared. Investigators explored networks and connections but found little concrete to explain what happened. A final post dedicated to the family hinted at a person who loved to write, a writer who left behind no sign that could help her sisters or mother understand the path she had taken. If she is alive, Mayte fears she may be isolated from any group that could guide her back to safety.
Mayte’s mother remains devastated. The family shares a simple promise: they will not give up. They continue to work in the fields, tending to the orchard and the animals from dawn to dusk. The elder family member still drives the tractor, while Mayte studies sociology and work in social support, learning to adapt against the clock that never seems to be long enough. Legal matters add to the pain of separation as Anabel’s absence blocks access to the inheritance of their father. The family remains steadfast, hoping that Anabel will return, offering the certainty that she was a teacher with a big heart who never fully disappeared from their thoughts. They dream of a resolution, a voice, or a sign that helps them understand when and how this nightmare might end, and they ask for the chance to welcome her home again in a world that has moved on without her.