The upcoming equine competitions meant she couldn’t afford to slack off, even with her schedule all over the place. She had to train every single day, no exceptions. Practice made perfect, after all.
However, this afternoon, she’d traded her riding helmet for a baseball cap, and her jodhpurs for black leggings.
Ending the call, she shoved the phone into her back pocket and stood as the bus came to an abrupt stop.
Shannon managed to catch her bag before it slid off the seat and rolled her eyes, shot the driver a subtle chin flick, and jumped down onto the footpath.
She inhaled deep into her lungs, the salty sea breeze reminding her just how far she was from home. The squawk of seagulls overhead vied with the loud traffic below them.
In a hurry, she jogged toward the pedestrian crossing, glancing at her watch. Almost half past four. The usual rush of office workers was still building.
She poked the crosswalk button and waited for the light to change.
“Jamie?” a male voice called from behind her, close but distant. “Jamie, where are you?”
Shannon glanced over her shoulder at a well-dressed man, possibly in his sixties, with cropped white hair and a furrowed brow, pacing steadily.
He didn’t appear drunk or dangerous, just lost—confused, vulnerable.
When the traffic light beeped, Shannon hesitated, hoping someone else would step in to help him. But no one did.
Strangers walked past without so much as a glance in his direction, never pausing long enough to care what was happening.
Something tugged at her, though. She knew he was lost from his panicked movements, wide eyes, and the way he spun around, looking heavenward.
Shannon exhaled a long breath as she watched him drag his palms down his pale cheeks in frustration.
Her heart twisted as she checked her watch again. She was already late. A few more minutes wouldn’t matter.
She jogged toward him, meeting his gaze as she slowed.
“Hey… Can I help you?” Her hand grazed his shoulder, careful, but grounding.
The lines around his mouth deepened, and his wiry brows furrowed, as though he was trying to focus on her, but the effort made his expression tighten.
“Oh, my dear,” he mumbled. “I need Jamie. My son, Jamie. I was with him, and then I...” His words trailed off.
Shannon’s eyes darted around the street, searching for anyone who might be with him, anyone who might recognise him. But no one showed any interest.
“Where did you last see him?” she asked.
The man stopped pacing, his arms folding across his chest as he cradled himself in a self-soothing gesture.
His expression went blank, and he stared along the road, toward the hotel, eyes unfocused, as if the world around him had faded.
His hand swept over his cropped buzz cut, the motion slow, as though he were trying to remember something. The thick golden ring on his left hand gleamed in the sunlight when his fingers curled into a fist.
His suit jacket flared open, revealing a royal blue lining, the fabric stitched perfectly to fit his frame.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice tight. “My eldest son, Marcus… he’s flying home to see me. He told me he would be here. I went to look for him.”
The shift in his demeanour didn’t go unnoticed. His memory seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye, like someone flipping a switch in his mind.
Shannon glanced at his jacket again, then back at him.
“Is that your phone?” she asked gently, pointing to the device in his jacket. “In your pocket.”
He blinked, as if he hadn’t noticed it until then. Slowly, he nodded, his brow furrowing deeper. “Yes. But...it doesn’t work right now. I…”
