The moment I stepped out of Ava's apartment, the cool evening breeze brushed against my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. I had gone there expecting answers. Instead, I walked away with more questions than ever.
The image of that little girl lingered in my mind like a stubborn shadow. I didn't need the photograph in front of me anymore. I'd stared at it long enough for every detail to become etched into my memory. A child standing with Isabelle, called the other one, disappeared after turning six.
I unlocked my car, Isabelle’s car rather and slid into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel without starting the engine.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered to myself, there have to be a reasonable explanation, families lost photographs all the time right, not every
