Arthur froze, staring at it. This wasn’t like the bottles or wrappers that could have been blown in. This was personal, deliberate. Someone had been here, comfortable enough to leave behind a piece of themselves.
He didn’t bring it inside. Instead, he draped the shirt across the back of the chair where it had been, hoping whoever had left it would return for it. Perhaps they would feel the sting of being noticed. Perhaps they would stop.