Chapter 4
Chaapter 4
With her fingertips, she carefully fished out a tiny piece of paper from inside.
The paper had been folded up really small.
It was just the size of a fingernail.
It was yellowed, with worn edges.
It looked like it had been hidden there for ages.
The officer set the paper down on the table.
She exchanged a glance with Quentin.
Then, with extreme care, she unfolded the fragile piece of paper, bit by bit.
My eyelids felt like lead, getting heavier with every passing second.
Everything around me faded into a haze.
The last thing I saw before everything went dark was that paper, completely unfolded.
There seemed to be a string of numbers scrawled across it.
The numbers were all crooked, scrawled across the paper.
It looked like something a child would scribble.
Some of the digits were blurred and nearly illegible, worn down by years and soaked with sweat.
The officer looked at the numbers, then glanced up at Quentin.
Her voice sounded uncertain.
"Captain, take a look at this..." the officer said, glancing at Quentin.
"Doesn't this look like...a phone number?" she asked.
Phone number?
Those words sent a faint spark through me.
It hit something inside, a place I'd almost forgotten existed.
It stirred a dusty, forgotten corner of my mind.
I struggled to open my heavy eyelids.
The world was wobbling.
Quentin and the officer's faces blurred, then cleared again.
They were both staring at that tiny piece of paper.
Both of them looked dead serious.
"What did the Forensic & Tech Unit say?" Quentin asked.
His voice was low, but every word came through crystal clear.
"Two digits in the middle are completely blurred," the officer replied.
"The sweat and wear have made it almost impossible to read," the officer said.
"All we know is, it starts with 13.
"That leaves a hundred possible combinations, from 00 to 99," she added.
"Have the Forensic & Tech Unit test each one," Quentin gave the command.
"Try each one," Quentin ordered.
"Even if it's like searching for a needle in a haystack, you get me that needle," he added.
The officer nodded, slipped the paper into an evidence bag, and hurried out.
It was just Quentin and me in the room.
And that glass of milk, now cold.
He didn't look at me.
His gaze landed on my old coat.
The one the officer had checked earlier.
He picked it up and carefully inspected it again.
He checked every pocket.
Every single seam.
He checked even more carefully than the officer did.
I watched his movements.
For some reason, I felt nervous, like something was about to go wrong.
This coat was the only thing I had to remember my brother by.
I didn't want him to ruin it.
Quentin's fingers lingered on the inside of the collar.
Right where the name "Anna Thorn" was embroidered.
He gently brushed his fingertips over the name, as if he were searching for some hidden secret in those rough stitches.
After what felt like ages, Quentin finally set the coat down and turned to face me.
His eyes were even more intense than before, searching me for something I couldn't name.
"Luna," he said softly.
He spoke my name, his voice lingering in the quiet room.
"Do you remember anyone else in your family besides your brother?" Quentin asked softly.
"Family...?"
I shook my head.
All I could think about was my brother. Nothing else mattered.
"Your dad? Your mom?" he prompted.
I kept shaking my head.
Those names felt even more alien to me than "Anna Thorn."
It felt like something out of a different world.
"Do you remember where you and your brother used to live?" Quentin asked.
"Where to live...?"
I strained to remember.
Fragments flickered in my mind.
It was dark.
It was small.
It felt like there weren't any windows.
The air always had this damp, moldy smell.
But that wasn't home.
It was just somewhere to sleep.
It always seemed like my brother and I were moving from place to place.
We kept moving from one damp, moldy place to the next.
I couldn't even put it into words.
I just shook my head.
He didn't press me any further.
His face was a mystery to me.
I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
And maybe...a bit of pity, too.
I didn't like that look.
I was not someone to be pitied.
I got my brother.
As long as I behaved myself, he would come back to pick me up.
My stomach growled again.
This time, it was really loud.
It sounded extra loud in the quiet room.
My face went red.
I thought I saw Quentin smile.
"Hungry?" he said, glancing at me.
He stood up.
"What do you want to eat? I will go get it for you," he offered.
I almost said "bread."
But just then, the female officer came back in.
She was holding a stack of photos.
She handed them over to Quentin.
"Captain, the photos just came through," she said.
"There are three entries for Anna Thorn in the national registry for missing kids, all between seven and nine years old.
"These are the photos their families provided when they reported them missing," she added.
Quentin took the photos.
He looked through them one by one.
His frown deepened with every picture.
He singled one out.
Then he walked over and crouched down in front of me.
He held the photo out for me to see.
"Luna, take a look.
"Do you recognize this person?" he asked.
It was a color photo.
The little girl in the photo was wearing a cute red dress.
Her hair was done up in two braided pigtails.
She was standing in a really big park.