His small hands pressed against the window, fingers splayed.
I felt a chill run down my spine despite the warming day.
It was like the world had stopped, just for a moment, focusing on that one point, that one connection.
I glanced around again, hoping to catch someone’s eye, some sign of help.
But the street was stubbornly silent, the adults gone, the scene erased from their morning routine.
What was it about this place that made people turn away?
Why did their silence feel so powerful, so damning?
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