A trip to the station
The next morning, Ava and her mother arrived at the police station, an imposing building towering before them, its cold walls reflecting the gravity of the moment. The air was heavy with the smell of coffee and the buzz of daily activity, but to Ava, everything seemed distant, as if time had slowed down around her. She squeezed her mother’s hand, feeling her heart race, a mixture of anxiety and desperate hope for answers. They headed towards the reception, the words of Ava’s story already rehearsed, ready to be told once more, in search of something that would bring clarity to everything that had happened.
A Journey to the Station
Drawing the Past
An officer led them into a small room, where Ava sat in front of a police sketch artist. The tension in the air was palpable, and Ava felt the weight of the moment as she tried to recall every detail of her encounter with the old man. She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing her memory to relive the man’s face, clothes and even his strange behavior. The sketch artist listened attentively to Ava’s every word, his pencil moving swiftly across the paper. Ava watched, her heart racing, as the old man’s face slowly began to take shape before her eyes, as if it were a memory that was finally becoming real.
Drawing The Past
