She looked at him; he was alone, with no Lele by his side. His shirt was now disheveled, a small cut visible on his face. In the past few hours, they had lost count of how many times they had paced back and forth along the short stretch of one kilometer of street, entering countless shops.
When all was still again, tears began to flow down Qianning's face. She no longer had the strength to weep or speak; she could only silently let the tears fall.
Beigong Cang walked over to her, oblivious to the stares from passersby, and held her tightly, "It's okay, we will find the child."
"Let's call the police," Qianning said softly.
"We can't report a missing person until twenty-four hours have passed, Qianning. Maybe a kind-hearted person has found her and taken her in. Perhaps she's already eating dinner right now."
