silent. The officer’s instincts tingled with a sense of something amiss. He scanned the room, his eyes settling on the closet door, slightly ajar with shadows playing tricks on the light spilling in from the hallway.
With a cautious nod to his partner, the officer approached the closet, his hand resting on the grip of his flashlight. He swung the door open, revealing rows of tiny clothes and the faint scent of lavender. At first glance, there was nothing unusual, but his intuition urged a closer inspection. Kneeling down, he noticed a loose floorboard, its edges worn from frequent disturbance.
Mia’s parents stood at the doorway, their confusion mingling with concern. The officer carefully pried the floorboard up, revealing a small compartment. Inside lay a dusty, old briefcase—an odd find in a child’s bedroom. The officer exchanged a glance with his partner, then carefully lifted it out and placed it on the bed.