After they took him, I heard murmurs from the students. Some whispered that they had always suspected him of being a gangster. I couldn’t stand hearing them soil his name, so I ran home, my heart pounding.
When I got home, I rushed to tell my parents what happened. My dad didn't hesitate, he took off immediately for the police station. I wanted to follow him, but he refused.
"Calm down, he’ll be back soon," my mom said, trying to comfort me. But how could I be calm? Not until my devil was by my side again.
Later that evening, my dad returned. I didn’t even let him settle before bombarding him with questions.
"How is he? Did they hurt him?" I asked, fear gripping me as I thought about the stories I'd heard of how prisoners were treated.
“He’s fine. They didn’t touch him. I convinced th
