Sheila Mansfield's eyes were filled with horror and confusion, as if she had fallen into a quagmire, sinking deeper and deeper, unable to break free.
"No... No... She didn't get lost; she didn't get lost. My daughter is still alive and well; how could she possibly be missing?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
She screamed hysterically, her eyes bloodshot, and her vulnerability didn't incite annoyance but rather aroused deep sympathy.
The young woman whose shoulder was tightly gripped showed a brief moment of helplessness, as if noticing that the person before her was not mentally stable, tried her best to calm her down with a gentle tone.
"Alright, yes, your daughter is alive and well. She must be waiting in some corner of the world for you to take her home."
The voice was gentle, and Sheila's expression loosened a little as she murmured in agreement.
"Yes, my baby is waiting for me to take her home, but I can't find her. I, as her mother, can't find her..."
