As he walked out of the station, shame and confusion twisted in his chest. He had followed his instincts, and yet he was wrong—or was he? The girl had been there, he was sure of it. But now, it seemed like nothing more than a fading memory.
At home, the week-long suspension felt like an eternity. His thoughts kept circling back to the house, to the man’s firm denials, and to the girl who had waved at him every day. She couldn’t have been a figment of his imagination—could she?