The kid couldn’t have been older than ten, standing on the side of a deserted highway with nothing but a backpack. I pulled over, rolled down my window. “You okay, bud?” His eyes were wide, scared, but he nodded. He mumbled something. The way he spoke unsettled me, but I let him in—figured I’d drop him off at the next town. Then, as we drove, he told me his story.
The second I heard it, I slammed on the brakes and turned the truck around…