Then Megan pushed the grocery cart toward the checkout lanes.
Lily stayed.
Of course she stayed.
She was five years old, and an adult had told her not to move.
She said she waited and waited.
Eventually she became scared and tried to find Megan, but she could not see her anywhere.
So Lily returned to the bench because those had been Megan’s instructions.
She believed Megan was coming back.
I sat there holding my daughter while people walked past us carrying shopping bags.
Outside the glass doors, a pigeon pecked at a silver wrapper near the curb.
I looked at Lily’s missing shoe, the red line in her palm, and the yellow price tag she still would not release.
Then I took out my phone.
My first call was to 911.
I gave the dispatcher Lily’s age, our location, and the basic facts as calmly as I could.
