Chapter 3 - Hannah Notices The Empty Space In Milo's Backpack
Back inside the humming warmth of the laundromat, Hannah wiped soapy water from her forehead with the back of her wrist.
She turned around to check on her son by the window, expecting to see his small nose pressed against the foggy pane.
Instead, the wooden bench was completely empty, save for a stray blue crayon rolling slowly across the slatted seat.
Panic surged instantly through her chest, freezing the breath in her lungs as she dropped her laundry basket to the floor.
“Milo?” she called out, her voice cracking over the rhythmic thumping of the spin cycles echoing through the room.
She hurried toward the front glass door, pushing it open just enough to scan the bustling sidewalk outside.
The gray afternoon streets were crowded with evening commuters rushing past in heavy coats and knitted scarves.
Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs as she searched frantically for a small red jacket amid the sea of strangers.
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Then, through a break in the traffic, she caught a glimpse of a small figure stepping onto the opposite curb.
Her son was walking purposefully toward the glowing entrance of Monroe’s Diner, carrying his heavy backpack like a little man.
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