Museum of Little Ladies- Part 1

I walked along Walnut St. and my eyes were caught on the rising spiral of handbills. Some volunteer must have left them on the street corner and they had been set into flight by a sudden gust of wind. The same face stared back at me from the innumerable posters plastered on the walls of houses and lampposts lining the street.
She was a brunette, just like the rest of them. Similar black shiny eyes with that childish innocence beaming out of them. The photo was one I recognized. It was from my portrait sitting. I had taken it myself, her mother brought her in the day after her 8th birthday. Dressed in egg shell white, she looked like an angel in the pictures.
'A pity' exclaimed the sheriff's aide, Jim. He had walked up behind me while I stood staring at the poster. ' The mother let her in the yard alone for 15 min and this happens. We don't have a single clue. I don't know what to tell her parents anymore. There is no hope anymore. She's been gone for over a month now.'
I nodded gently, not knowing how to react to his confidences. It was rare that our paths crossed. I mostly kept to myself and my studio. As I took a few steps forward, he spoke again, 'Clara, do you know anything at all about these kidnappings? So many of these children and their parents have been in and out of your studio. Do you have any clues that could help me get to the bottom of this? Is there anything you would like to tell me?'
I spun around, outraged. In a steady but firm voice, ' Jim, do you really think I have something to do with all of this?' Figures, ever since I moved back and started my studio, everyone seems to be treating me like I was a little crazy.  Turning a deaf ear to his stuttered entreaties, I stalked off purposefully. I had become the resident witch of Pade County and I wasn't enjoying that at all. My eccentricities were all forgiven when the time came for their children's portraits. So in the interest of my business, I forgave them too.