"Doctor, have you seen this child in the convoy?"
He took out a piece of paper with frayed edges from inside his coat. On it was a charcoal sketch of a girl around ten years old. The paper was a bit dirty.
Evelyn Ford took the paper and studied it carefully. "Is this your daughter?"
"Yes, she's my daughter. My name is Clay Gable, and my daughter is Samantha Gable. Her nickname is Dotty. When the earthquake hit, I was at work at the pharmaceutical factory, and she was in a shelter. I was later taken to the main square for treatment, and we got separated. I searched the square for days but couldn't find her. Doctor, could you please keep an eye out for her?"
The man's eyes glistened with tears as he spoke of his daughter. He hadn't wanted to leave, but the escorting soldiers had forcibly carried him into the train car.
Evelyn memorized the face of the child in the drawing and nodded at Clay Gable. "I'll keep an eye out for you. How old is she?"
