Hans

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Han's Journal

Day 1 of Lucia Missing

The words 'Lucia is missing' seem to echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and sinking into my bones, chilling me to the core. Elke's voice was trembling on the phone when she told me she hadn't heard from our daughter, and since then, it's been a maelstrom of disbelief and terror. Lucia is missing in Mumbai, thousands of miles away from home, and I'm helpless.

It feels like my heart is lodged in my throat, choking me with fear. What happened to our girl? Is she safe? The endless questions swirling around my mind are unbearable. My sweet Lucia, who was so excited about exploring the vibrant streets of Mumbai, tasting new foods, meeting new people. All of that excitement is now replaced by fear, the joy snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

I've been pacing the room, a sense of dread consuming me. I've made numerous calls - to the police, to the German Embassy in India, trying to piece together what could've happened. Each minute waiting for a reply is torture, it's like being stuck in quicksand, the uncertainty pulling me down.

Elke and I are caught in our worst nightmare, a reality we never thought we'd face. As I lie down tonight, sleep seems elusive, replaced by pictures of Lucia smiling, laughing, waving goodbye at the airport. It's day one of a nightmare I fear has no end in sight, but I must find her. My baby girl, Lucia, we'll find you.

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Han's Journal

Day 3 of Lucia Missing

This morning, I mustered the strength to call the German Embassy in India. It felt like an out-of-body experience, as if I was recounting someone else's tale as I gave them every detail about Lucia – her photo, her passport information, her itinerary.

The people at the embassy were sympathetic, assuring me they're in contact with the local authorities in Mumbai. But each word of comfort feels hollow, each promise of assistance echoing in the vast emptiness that has suddenly become my reality. The uncertainty of what comes next is a gnawing ache that never subsides.

I keep staring at the phone, willing it to ring, praying for any news of Lucia. Every passing minute feels like an hour, each hour a day. Time has a different meaning when you're waiting for news of your missing child – it slows down, each tick of the clock resounding like a hammer on my heart.

I feel like a marionette dancing to the tune of desperation and fear, my strings pulled taut with anxiety. Every thought, every action, revolves around Lucia. I find myself repeatedly dialling Elke's number, seeking solace in shared worry.

Hope feels like a fickle friend, appearing and disappearing. I cling onto it desperately, for without it, I'm lost. Each second is torment, but I hold on, for Lucia. The waiting continues, but I refuse to give up. She's out there somewhere, and I will find her.

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Han's Journal

Day 7 of Lucia Missing

As I sat on the plane heading towards Mumbai, it felt like I was leaving a part of me behind. My small jewelry shop, a labor of love, now closed and dark, reflected my current state of mind. It was a necessary sacrifice, as every ounce of my being needs to focus on finding Lucia.

The roar of the plane's engines was the only sound piercing my thoughts as I looked out into the void, the vast expanse of the sky mirroring the enormity of the situation. Each passing cloud seemed to take a piece of my heart with it, drifting towards where my Lucia is.

The flight was the longest of my life, each passing minute pulling me further away from the safety of my familiar world and closer to the city where my daughter had vanished. The lights of Mumbai shimmering in the distance were beautiful and terrifying at the same time - a beacon drawing me closer to my mission and reminding me of the daunting task ahead.

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