Chapter Thirty-One

0 0 0
                                    


"Bianca!" Sam shouts and runs toward her.

Her eyes are wild  as  she  looks  at  him. He  gets  to her and rests a

hand on the girl's back. "She  just   showed   up   at   home,"  Bianca 

says.  "I work a later shift today, and when  I  was leaving  for  work,

she  just  stumbled up  into the  yard  and  collapsed.

Oh, god. What  if  I  had  my  regular shift?

           What if I hadn't been there when she got there?"

     She turns her sobbing face into Gloria's neck.

     "Why didn't you bring her to the emergency room?" Sam ask.

     "She's softer in the children's wing. The ER has doors that open right to

     the outside. That if he comes looking for her?"

          It's the type of  logic  that  only   makes   sense  because  of  the  situation,

but  we  aren't going  to  argue  with  her.   A   doctor  runs  up,  and  she  hands

Gloria over to him. The little girl groans, and her eyes flutter open.

     "Mama," she says weakly.

      "I'm  right  here, baby.  I'm  not  going   anywhere. The  doctors  are  going

to take care of you," Bianca whispers through tears.

    The doctor and a nurse rush  her  into  a  nearby  room  with  Bianca  close

behind them.

     "What do we do now?" I ask.

       "We need to talk to her. Until we  figure  out  what  this  clue  is  supposed

to  mean, we  don't  really  have  anything  to   go  on.  We  have  to  just  wait,"

Sam says.

    There's a small waiting room  off  the  side,  and  he  and  I  go  into  it. 

     He pulls up the picture of the show again and stares at it.

    "Click on the image and  make  it  bigger. Maybe  there's  something  in  it

that we're not noticing," I suggest.

     He fills the  screen  with  the  image, and  we  continue  to  stare  at  it.  I

start in one of the top corners of the image  and   inch   my   eye   across  it,

taking in every  tiny  piece  of  it  individually  rather  than  the  entire  image.

By the time I get to the bottom  corner, I  haven't  found  anything   new.  It's

just the shoe with the words written across it.

    "It's  on  a  track.  Like   a   running  track,"  Sam  says.  "But   I   can't   tell

where."
  
    "It's outside," I say. "The way the light is hitting it looks like sunlight."

    "That means it wasn't taken this morning. It was too cloudy."

     "Where  are  there  outdoor  running   tracks   in   Sherwood?  The   middle

and high school have them, right?"

The Girl that vanished Where stories live. Discover now