The bus headed east, away from schools, apartment blocks, and the neighborhoods where a child should have been going home. Sean watched each stop carefully, just in case Leo got down. When Leo finally got off, it was in an older part of town near pawn shops, closed repair garages, and buildings with peeling paint. Sean parked around the corner and followed on foot. Leo kept checking the folded envelope in his hand, then looking up at street signs, his face pulled tight with concentration. He was trying to act grown-up, but every few seconds he glanced around like he was suddenly remembering just how big the city was.
At a corner deli, Leo used a handful of coins to buy a bottle of water. He didn’t even take change; he just snatched the bottle and hurried back outside. A few doors down, he stopped an older man sweeping in front of a shuttered appliance store and held up a worn photograph. Sean edged closer and heard the boy ask, “Do you know him?” The man squinted at the picture and shook his head. Leo thanked him and kept moving. At the next shop, he asked again. Then at a laundromat. Then outside a mechanic’s lot. The same photograph, the same question, each time sounding a little more hopeful and a little more scared. Sean could’ve easily intervened, but he just quietly followed.