I guessed her age at about nine, maybe ten, khaki pants with a white shirt, short hair slightly windblown. The bus had just pulled away.
My shop is located on a very busy street across from a large city park. Her school bus stops on the corner.
My last customer had just walked out the door when I saw her walk to the corner and slump against the chain link fence.
Thirty minutes later she was still there. I know why it bugged me. She isn't much older than my granddaughter, and my little one is my heart.
So, I stood guard, walked outside. I conceal carry. She was safe.
Every few minutes she would stand and walk to the edge of the street and glance first one way then the other. Hoping, waiting. She, at least to me, appeared worried.
I have a bench in front of my shop. I tried to appear like an older man just taking a nap, when all I really wanted to do was walk over and give her a hug and tell her it was fine and I was sure mom or dad would be there soon, but you and I both know I couldn't do that.
Forty two minutes later she was crying when the dusty gray car turned in and she climbed in the back.
At least for a while she had been under my personal protection.
Some parents are just assholes.
(Note: re-posted as requested)