“I heard a student taking the college entrance exam went missing,” one passerby said. “Now the entire town’s police, firefighters, and volunteers are out looking. It’s a huge operation!”
“Did the student get kidnapped?” another asked. “Human traffickers are getting out of hand these days!”
The town was being searched from top to bottom.
I moved through the city, constantly switching hiding spots. I had close calls—too many.
I knew I couldn’t keep this up for long.
Taking a gamble, I made my way into the mountains.
Woodstock had eighteen villages, and if there was one thing it didn’t lack, it was mountains. Endless stretches of rugged terrain, spanning thousands of miles.
But the townspeople were quick to respond. I hadn’t even been hiding in the mountains for three hours when I saw their searchlights.
From my position up high, I watched the long line of lights weaving through the woods below. Quietly, I pulled a thin flashlight from my backpack—no thicker than a finger—and used it to guide my way down.
No one knew that while they searched the mountains, I was already slipping back into town.