Fallen Rose

Mama's Gun Part 3

 The sun shone brightly onto the group as they briskly made their way down the path on the stressful autumn morning. The trail Jasmine had left was becoming futile as a breeze picked up, scattering it all about. The cool air brushed against the desolate group as they looked around, Hiroshi more desperately than the rest. They kept up best guesses but came to find themselves lost for clues. Michael kept in front, holding confidence in his heart as he looked to the forlorn father. He seemed to tremble with anxiety, twiddling his hands in his hair as he was lost in nervous thoughts. Michael grimaced, slight doubts of finding Minh trying to slither in. He kept high hopes, regardless, but couldn't help but give in to the uncertainty. They didn't have much evidence to go off of, anyways...

"Oh... It's becoming hopeless..." Hiroshi whined, lips quivering, "We won't find her in time, will we?!"

"No, Hiroshi, we will! Uhm..." Michael rubbed his neck, unsure. "It's possible..."

"We'll find her!" Billy pat Hiroshi's shoulders, flashing him a reassuring smile. "You had doubts in the past, and they were proved wrong, weren't you?"

"I suppose so..."

"See! There's no reason we can't overcome this! You gotta keep your spirits high, and- Hey!" He stopped, eyeing the ground far in front of him. "That..."

He jogged ahead, Hiroshi following curiously. Billy knelt down, picking up the small, black rectangle.

"A wallet..."

"Yup! And if we're lucky..." He opened it up, rustling through its contents. "Aha! Minh must have gotten this out, somehow, eh?" He lifted up a driver's license, Thanh's face plastered on it. Hiroshi's eyes lightened at the sight, leaning over Billy's shoulder with a grin.

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"Hand me that!" He exclaimed, reaching for it as Billy handed it to him. The smaller man scanned it, his eyes trailing down the card.

"Aha!"

He swiped his finger across the card.

"Her address! Oh-" He looked up, searching for street signs. "Poplar...!"

"What is it, Hirosh?"

"1976 Poplar street!" He lifted her license up, "Here! I-It's right ahead, C'mon!" He dashed forward in excitement, alerting the others to catch up.

"Wait up, Hiroshiiii!" Billy ran forward in surprise, waving his hand. "Heeeey!"

---

She huffed, attempting to budge the door open for the 20th time, to no avail. She grumbled, kicking it in frustration, making her way back to the sleeping cat. She pet him, analyzing the room. She turned her head to the window, taking note of the chest. She stood carefully, making her way to it. She traced her hand over it, it was nothing too extravagant. A childish wooden chest that was painted white, pink paws scattered across. She pondered a moment before opening it up.

Within it lie several of your basic toys; dolls, trains, cars, building bricks. There were also some basic supplies, paper, pencils, crayons. She sighed, biting her lip. Nothing too helpful here... or was there? She pulled out the pencil and paper, placing it in her front pocket.

She walked over to the big wardrobe near the bed, checking its contents. It wasn't much, some children's clothes behind the doors, nothing in the drawers. She reached up, yanking a green turtleneck dress off the hook as she kept the wire clothes hanger on her person. She glanced at the door before sitting herself next to Jasmine, taking out the pen and paper.

"First...First I...." She began scribbling down words and childish drawings as she planned, "Try and bust open the door! Put the...clothes thing between the door..." She nodded, illustrating her point. "And when I get out, I sneak through the halls, but do I-" She puffed her cheeks , tapping her head. She drew herself crawling, then herself close to the wall. "Well...Maybe she's in that office thing... If she's in there, I can just run out the door... If she catches me, uh... Jasmine! No, No... Well, if she's in the living room, she would've heard the door and me, right! If I just..." She drew herself tiptoeing out with Jasmine in her arms. "Perfect! Now..." She eyed the doorknob with confidence, she kept the clothes hanger in her grip, dashing forward.