Sally's Novels

The hours ticked by at a glacial pace. Jane sat in the living room, her eyes fixed on the clock, confusion and worry etched across her face. “Still no word from Sam?” she asked, her voice trembling with desperation. Mr. Harold shook his head, his expression somber. “Nothing.” Each passing moment deepened the family’s despair. Every door they knocked on, every phone call they made, every inquiry they pursued — all led to the same painful dead end. “Something has happened to my baby,” Jane whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mr. Harold pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, trying to offer a semblance of comfort. “We’ll find him,” he said firmly, though his voice carried the weight of uncertainty. “I promise.” As the days crept by, the uncertainty became suffocating. The not knowing gnawed at their hearts. Would they ever see Sam again? One afternoon, Jane walked into Sam’s room. The air was still, his scent faint but familiar. She began tidying up, her trem...