And he was wearing my son’s jacket.

Not a similar one — the exact same jacket Daniel had worn the morning he disappeared.

I knew immediately because of the guitar-shaped patch covering a torn sleeve. I had sewn that patch myself. I also recognized the small paint stain on the back when the man turned to order tea.

I pointed toward him. “Add that man’s tea and a bun to my order.”

The barista glanced at him, then nodded.

The old man turned toward me. “Thank you, ma’am, you’re so—”

“Where did you get that jacket?”

He looked down at it. “A boy gave it to me.”

“Brown hair? About sixteen?”

He nodded.

Just then the barista handed him his order. A businessman and a woman in a skirt stepped between us. When I moved around them, the old man had already disappeared.

I scanned the café and spotted him stepping onto the sidewalk.

“Wait, please!” I hurried after him.

I tried catching up, but the sidewalk was crowded. People moved aside for him, but I struggled to push through.

After two blocks, I realized something strange.

The old man wasn’t stopping to ask for money. He hadn’t eaten the bun or touched the tea.

He was walking with purpose.

My instincts told me not to catch him — but to follow him.

So I did.

I trailed him all the way to the outskirts of the city.

He stopped outside an old abandoned house, surrounded by overgrown weeds and bordered by woods behind it. The place looked forgotten.

The old man knocked softly.

I crept closer. When he glanced around, I ducked behind a tree.

The door opened.

“You said I should tell you if someone ever asked about the jacket…” the old man said.

I peeked around the tree.

When I saw who stood in that doorway, my knees nearly gave out.

“Daniel!” I rushed forward.

My son looked up. Fear filled his eyes.

A shadow shifted behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder — then looked at me again and did the last thing I expected.

He ran.

“Daniel, wait!” I sprinted past the old man and into the house.

A door slammed somewhere inside. I ran down the hallway and burst into the kitchen just in time to see Daniel and a girl racing toward the woods through the back door.

I chased them, shouting his name.

But they were faster.

Soon they disappeared among the trees.

I lost them.

I drove straight to the nearest police station and told the officer everything.

“Why would he run from you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But please help me find him before he disappears again.”

“I’ll send out an alert, ma’am.”

I sat there waiting.

Every time the station door opened, my body tensed.

My thoughts kept circling the same questions: What if he’s already gone? What if he caught a bus? What if that was my only chance?

Close to midnight, the officer approached me.

“We found him. He was near the bus terminal. They’re bringing him here now.”

Relief washed over me so suddenly I felt dizzy.

“And the girl?” I asked.

“He was alone.”

They brought Daniel into a small interview room.

I didn’t realize I was crying until tears blurred my vision.

“You’re alive,” I said. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? And when I finally saw you… why did you run from me?”

He kept his eyes fixed on the table.

“I didn’t run from you.”

“Then what—”

“I ran because of Maya.”