Freenbecky Family Oneshots

It was supposed to be a simple shopping trip.

Becky and Freen had brought Faith to the mall for a casual weekend outing. They had gone through the usual routine—lunch at their favorite café, a little browsing, and a stop at the bookstore.

Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

...

One moment, Faith was right next to them, her tiny hand gripping the strap of Freen’s tote bag as they walked through the department store.

The next—she was gone.

"Faith?" Freen called, spinning around.

No answer.

"Faith!" Becky's voice was sharper now, her heart already racing.

Their daughter was not there.

Their two-and-a-half-year-old, barely the height of a shopping cart, was missing in a crowded mall.

Becky’s breathing turned shaky. “Babe, where is she?”

Freen’s mind raced, her heart hammering. “She was right here—she was holding onto my bag—”

“Well, she’s not now!” Becky snapped, her voice cracking.

People around them started to notice.

Freen grabbed Becky’s arm. "We have to stay calm. Let’s go to customer service."

But Becky was already walking away fast, her hands clenched into fists.

...

The customer service counter was at the center of the mall. Becky practically slammed her hands onto the counter.

"Our daughter is missing. She’s two and a half years old—wearing a yellow dress, white sneakers, dark brown hair in pigtails. Her name is Faith."

The worker immediately paged security.

Freen was pacing, her fingers running through her hair. Her chest felt tight.

"Attention all shoppers. We have a missing child alert. Two-and-a-half-year-old girl named Faith, last seen in a yellow dress and white sneakers. If anyone sees her, please bring her to the customer service counter immediately, or call 0811234567."

Becky’s hands were shaking. “Freen, how did this happen?”

“She was holding my bag,” Freen said again, as if repeating it would change reality.

Becky’s eyes were sharp and accusing. “And then what? What were you doing that she just disappeared?”

Freen froze, guilt and frustration crashing into her like a wave.

“I—”

But before she could answer, her phone rang.

The number was unknown.

She answered immediately. “Hello?!”

A calm, gentle voice responded, “Hello, is this Faith’s mother?”

Freen could barely breathe. “Yes! Yes, where is she? Is she okay?”

“She’s perfectly fine, dear,” the voice reassured. “She’s at the toy store on the third floor, sitting with me. She said she saw a duck tricycle and walked over to look at it.”

Freen nearly sank to her knees.

Becky was already grabbing her arm. “Where is she?”

Freen barely had the strength to answer. “Toy store.”