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002. Blazing Hopes
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AMARA PARISH WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. They followed a wrong trail, and thereby lost precious time. Every minute lost could determine the fate of the missing girl. A sense of unease churned in Bradford's stomach. This was a race against time.
"You're in possession of the phone of a missing girl," Bradford announced gravely as he and Chen closed in on the two boys in possession of Amara's phone. They wore battered clothes, countless holes decorating the old fabrics. Not to mention the state in which both were in: Dark rims lay under both their eyes, their bodies far too thin to be healthy. Something about the older boy struck Bradford as familiar. A face he had already seen before, he just couldn't connect where and when.
"Is this the new standard of our society?" the younger boy spoke up. Bradford assumed he was around fifteen years old, so most definitely a runaway. His hair was a tangled mess, some strands longer than the others. The boy crossed his arms. "What happened to polite greetings? Manners, anyone?"
Chen pointed at the unscathed green rucksack at his feet, a brow lifted. "Does this belong to you?"
"Yeah," the boy responded. "I'm not a thief."
"Then tell me – why is Amara Parish's phone in your hands?" Bradford asked, his voice harsher than Chen's. There was no time for courtesy. These two boys were their only actual leads; right now, they were their only chance at finding Amara in time.
In 40% of stereotypical child kidnappings, the child was killed. And in 88.5% of the cases, the child was dead within 24 hours. Amara had already been missing for over 48 hours. Her phone would have been their best opportunity to find her, but for whatever reason, two homeless boys held that device in their hands. Those two boys knew more than anyone else about this case.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, dude," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. Bradford was sure the boy in front of him knew of the history this phone brought along, perhaps even about Amara's whereabouts.
"Then you won't mind coming back to the station with us, will you?" Bradford said, his head cocked. He held out his hand. "The phone."
The boy didn't move an inch.
"Now."
"Finn," the older brother finally hissed. "Behave."
The boy – Finn apparently – rolled his eyes. The older brother seemed to hold some sense of authority over Finn, since even though he didn't want to, he handed the phone over, sighing, "We finally got something actually valuable."
