When sweet little seventeen year old Bailey Jane Thomas doesn't come back for dinner; her mother immediately knows something is off.
Her daughter is naive and bad with directions. Bailey trusts too easily and becomes attached too quickly and it give...
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Georgia cried on her husbands shoulder after searching for a seventh time that day and finding nothing.
Nothing at all
The police hadn't yet moved into action and every hour that passed by made anxiety course through their blood.
She was literally sick with worry.
But why wouldn't she be? Her sweet little Bailey Jane was missing. She had every right to be
▪¤▪¤▪
Bailey giggled as the man with shaggy dirty blonde hair and a handsome, almost sad face stuck seaweed over the head he had built in the sand.
"She has hair now," she said happily as he fluffed the seaweed a bit.
She thanked the strange man for playing with her and got up off the sand, brushing the grains off her knees as she went.
The young man had come over when she was looking through a tide pool and he had asked what she was doing. She looked at him for a second, her mind visually scanning over the stranger danger list she had in her mind.
He seemed okay. Nice enough. The only thing off was that his lips were slightly down turned into a subtle frown. He seemed safe, maybe just a little... sad. A little rough around the edges, but nice.
"Would you like to go to the sweet shop? I'll buy you a treat," he offered.
Bailey's eyes lit up at the sound of sweets. Her papa always used to take her to the sweet shop. It had been a while since she'd gone.
Her face suddenly fell when she realized the sweet shop was past the walking limit her mom had set for her safety.
But its only a two minutes walk away. And mama doesn't like me walking alone; technically... i'm not going to be walking alone.
So she agreed
▪¤▪¤▪
He had seen the pretty little ginger and copper haired girl every day at the beach for a whole two weeks.
He wasn't ever looking for her; he just always spotted her. He'd see her everytime he cut across the beach to go surfing on the opposite side behind the embankment and the sand mounds.
She was always alone and never went into the water deeper than her knees.
She was a such a tiny little thing, but she had a sort of developed look to her that intrigued him.
She always either was wearing something lavender, white or a champagne colored. Never black. Never green.
Her clothes were always simple and short but her hair; oh her hair. It was gorgeous with its gingery-copper color and it looked almost a light pink champagne color when the sun was starting to set. Her hair was curly and light and it blew elegantly in the wind.
When he walked by on this particular day though, something was different.
His grip around his surf board tightened to the point where his knuckles started to ache when he noticed she wasn't alone, but with a man.
He had seen this man sitting on a sand mound watching her two days ago and he brushed it off because he too had been watching her in all her gorgeous, innocent glory.
Seeing him making something in the sand with her as she smiled and pat down the sand along with him made his blood pressure rise.
He watched as she got up off the sand and walked away with him by her side.
He looked in the direction he was supposed to go surfing in and then back towards the girl.
Surfing could happen another time.
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