She packed his bag like it was any other weekend. A red hoodie. His favorite. A small stuffed bluebird. And a drawing he had made just for her—round, bright, simple. In the corner, a sun. Under it, shaky letters: Advertisement“It’s you and me. Nia kissed her six-year-old son goodbye and watched him leave with his father. She thought she’d see him on Sunday. She never did. When he didn’t come back, panic turned into something heavier. Calls went unanswered. Messages disappeared into silence. The police took a report—but not seriously enough. “He’s with his father,” they said. But to Nia,...
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