Meet Miroslav

The formal man sat down beside me on the train this morning.

“You found my son’s badge.”

“Yes.”

“His name is Aleksa. I am Miroslav. Vuković. Do you know him, or what may have happened to him?”

“No, sorry. I don’t know anything. I never met him, as far as I know.”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he started asking about Leah.

How long we had been together. Whether she had ever been to my office. Whether she knew anyone there.

I asked why he was asking. What did he know?

“Nothing. Only that two people with a connection to the same company have disappeared without a trace.”

I was stunned.

“Aleksa and Leah? You think they're connected?”

“That is what I am trying to find out.”

Neither of us had much else to offer.

Before his stop, he handed me a card with his name and number.

“Keep your eyes and ears open. And keep doing what you’re doing with your site. It may shake something loose.”

Then he got off the train.

I’ve spent a long time trying not to invent connections just because I want an answer. I’m not sure what to do now that someone else sees one too.