They say that you’ve got forty-eight hours to find a missing person. That it becomes a different kind of search before too long. It’s a critical window. One that closed on Ben five years ago. His three-year-old brother, Eric, slipped away from him at the grocery store, vanishing right into the sticky air of the Florida Panhandle.
Ben still looks, though. Still searches, while his stepmother sits and whispers for Eric, refusing to leave the house that Ben’s father can no longer afford. Now twenty and desperate for work, Ben takes a job on the night stock crew at the very store that blinked Eric out of existence. Ben can feel that there’s something wrong there. With the people. With his boss. With the graffitied baler that shudders and moans and beckons. But he’s in the right place. He knows the store has much to show him, so he keeps looking. But Ben misses the most important thing of all.
That he should have stopped looking.