Finnegan
"I found a clearer image of her leaving the airport. We can't get her name and details yet," My PI's voice filtered through the receiver as I swiped at the photos he sent me, "But we can trace out her profile and try to match it from the feeds in different CCTV cameras. This makes it easier to find her."
There she was on my screen, caught mid-stride. Her side profile was slightly visible, the line of her jaw, the slope of her shoulders- those shoulders that I had held, that gloriously red hair.
My blood pumped wildly through my veins differently, heat beating furiously in my chest. She did this to me. After months of searching, scanning every crowded room, every bar, every lobby, pinning for her, this picture felt like a sip of water for a man dying of thirst.
"How long until we can find her?" I asked.
