We searched everywhere—filed reports, followed dead-end leads, even hired private investigators. For years, every phone call made my heart leap, hoping it was news. But as time passed, hope slowly withered, replaced by the dull ache of not knowing.
Last night, everything changed. I stopped at a gas station on my way home from work. As I was paying for fuel, a man walked past me.
My eyes caught on his jacket—a leather jacket, worn at the sleeve, covered in patches. My brother’s jacket. The one he never went anywhere without.
What happened next changed everything…
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