The little girl swallowed hard.

For a moment, she looked afraid to answer.

Then she whispered, “Her name is Rosa.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath him.

That name did not simply reach his ears. It broke through him.

His chair scraped loudly against the polished floor as he stood too quickly. Nearby conversations died at once. Faces turned toward him, but he did not notice them.

He only saw the child.

Rosa’s eyes.

Rosa’s softness.

Rosa’s impossible return in the form of a little girl standing before him.

His chest tightened.

“Where is she?” he asked.

The girl gripped the edge of the table.

“She’s sick,” she whispered. “In the old rooms behind the station.”

The old man’s breath shook.

Then she said the words that finished breaking him.

“She told me… if you still cared… you would come.”

Chapter 3: The Child With Her Eyes… Continue Reading ⬇️