The image would not leave my mind.
Emily’s small hand wrapped around a stranger’s fingers. Her head slightly bowed. Not struggling. Not running.
Just walking.
I sat across from Detective Laura Hayes in a quiet conference room while that still frame lay between us like a wound that refused to close.
“We’ve identified him,” she said gently. “His name is Daniel Mercer. He’s forty-four. No prior record. Works at a hardware store outside the city.”
I barely heard the details. One question echoed over and over.
“Why would she go with him?”
Detective Hayes paused. “From what we can tell, it wasn’t forced.”
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