Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

He had forced this package into her hands with purpose.
I know where she is.
For one brief moment there had been a spark of relief in his
eyes. That was why she believed in him. She believed because
he had worked so hard to get to her. She believed in Ian
Francis because he was all she had.
Josie picked up the cigarette roll of paper.
There was a fringe of chads on one side as if it had been
torn from the spirals of small notebook. A rubber band was
wrapped around this, too, but it was delicate, fraying in places,
and wound like a Cat’s Cradle. The minute she touched it the
thing disintegrated. It was a little bit like her hopes that
Hannah would be found.
***
Ian Francis walked down the street, his arms ridged by his
side, palms flat against his thighs, his steps minced, and his
gaze fixed. His thoughts were surprisingly clear: he was angry
with himself for being clumsy. He had frightened that woman.
That was the last thing he wanted and the last thing he
remembered.
Ian stopped, his interest suddenly caught by the reflection of
a man in a window. Two times he did this and the second time
he touched the glass. When he understood that this was his
own reflection, his chest grabbed and his heart hurt. How had
he come to this? He was pathetic. He paused a third time at a
boarded up store and this time he peered through wooden slats
covering dirty glass to see if he was any better. He wasn’t. Ian
clenched his jaw tight to keep from crying out in shame.
He moved on again and then Ian stopped for a final time. In
this window he looked past his reflection at the mannequins
dressed in cheap and unattractive clothes. A tear came to his
eye. He shuffled forward by an inch and another and put his