“I’ll just feed her.” “There’s poo on the bag, bird poo, look.” “Oh man.” We scramble for the wet wipes and try to placate your hungry, shouting sister. Pointless really. She shouts louder. “Where’s the boy?” Those words. So simple. So terrifying. We look around us. Children are playing. Parents are chatting. You’re not there. “WILLIAM.” Children shout. They laugh. It’s just noise. It may as well be silence. “WILLIAM.” Your Dad starts running. I throw your sister in the pram and do the same. Children everywhere. “WILLIAM.” You still don’t answer. This is real. The panic starts in my stomach and within seconds fills my mouth. “WILLIAM.” Why are they all still playing? One mother catches my eye. She sees the fear. “WILLIAM.”, she screams. I want to tell her no. He won’t come to you. He needs me. His Mum. Who lost him. Your Dad reappears. He stares at me for a moment. I nod. He starts to run for the exit. No need for words. We both know it. Someone has taken you. We can’t let them get away.