Lori turned to see a man. He looked familiar, but she didn’t recall from where.
“Did you ever find the guitar girl?”
Oh, it was the boy who worked at the sandwich shop. Lori shook her head. “No.”
He held out a piece of paper. “But this is her, right?”
Taking it, Lori looked down at the girl with the blue striped into her dark hair, wire frames around hazel eyes, the intense look she had always had while she had been playing. Apparently she always looked like that.
Marie Thompson. Missing person. She looked at the boy. “Oh.”
And he looked as absorbed into this as she was.