The Napkin Note
Clara waited for the man to go to the bathroom. This was her only chance.
“Hey,” she whispered to the girl. “What’s your name?”
Read also
The girl flinched. She didn’t speak. Her eyes darted to the empty window seat in pure terror.
Clara grabbed a cocktail napkin and a pen.
Do you need help? she wrote. She slid the napkin under the girl’s hand.
The child’s hand trembled. She didn’t write “Yes.” She didn’t write “No.”
She drew a shaky, jagged ‘X’.
Suddenly, the man returned. He snatched the napkin, crumpled it in his fist, and glared at Clara with eyes like ice.
Read also
“She has autism,” he hissed, his breath smelling of stale coffee. “Don’t touch her.”
Clara knew the truth. As soon as they landed in the busy terminal, he would vanish with her forever.
