It was meant to be a simple day of joy — a sunny afternoon at the carnival with my parents and five-year-old Harry. He was giddy about the carousel, the games, and especially the ice cream. One moment he was beside me, eyes fixed on a clown twisting balloons. The next, he was gone — swallowed by the crowd, and my world cracked open.
We searched until the lights dimmed and the music faded, our voices hoarse with fear. The police joined the search, but there was no trace, no clue.
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