The Door Behind the Bakery
The woman tightened her grip on the badge.
“Where is she?”
The girl pointed back toward the bakery alley.
“There… behind the storage room.”
Without another word, they moved.
The baker followed a few steps, still shouting.
“She’s lying! There’s nothing back there!”
The woman stopped him with a single look.
“Stay out of this.”
The alley was narrow and damp, filled with the smell of flour and old oil.
At the end stood a plain metal door.
No sign.
No window.
Just a heavy lock.
The girl stepped forward and pressed her small hand against it.
“She was taken in yesterday.”
The woman’s expression hardened.
She checked the lock, then the frame.
Fresh scratches.
Recent use.
She stepped back.
“Step away.”
She raised her radio again.
“Suspected illegal confinement. Need immediate entry support.”
A crackle answered.
“Units dispatched.”
The girl clutched the baguette tighter, her voice barely a whisper.
“Will she be okay?”
The woman looked down at her.
Then at the door.
“We found her.”
And behind the metal frame—
something shifted inside.
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