Part Two
I walk into the supermarket and see the faces on the bulletin board by the shopping carts.
I come here often, two or three times a week, and always scan the notices as I pass. They are predictable ads for home childcare or hot deals (runs good-one owner!), nothing to surprise or disquiet.
Today there are faces.
At first I only notice one, a boy with bright eyes and a dimpled smile, last seen leaving for school. I feel obliged to study the face and read the copy below. He might be living down the street from me, quietly enduring life with the abusive crack addict dad that stole him from his mother.
Then I see more faces, peeking from behind sale fliers. Most are children, and many are pawns in custody wars. Some have simply run away, but others have vanished. The unlucky ones
