P_itiful old Mama Jade moved slowly these days, her joints stiff from years of work and worry, but nothing in the world could stop her now. Her baby—her only little one left—had been taken. The moment she realized her child was gone, something fierce awakened inside her, something deeper than age, deeper even than fear. Mama Jade might have been old, but her love was ancient and unstoppable.
The trail was faint, but her senses were sharp where her body wasn’t. She followed the scent of her baby through the forest, moving with a determination that surprised even the birds watching from above. Every broken twig, every bent blade of grass told her she was still on the right path. She whispered encouragement to herself, low and steady, because letting despair creep in would slow her steps—and she had no time for that.
The kidnapper had moved quickly, leaving only scattered signs behind. Mama Jade imagined her child calling for her, tiny voice trembling in confusion. The thought pushed her forward. She didn’t waste her breath on anger; anger was too heavy to carry. Instead, she carried love, and that made her faster than anyone would have expected.
By the time she reached the edge of the ravine, the sun was dipping low, casting long orange shadows. She paused, not because she was tired but to listen. There—a soft whimper. Her heart clenched. She recognized that sound instantly.
Across the ravine, the kidnapper was struggling. The child was small but spirited, squirming and refusing to be held. Mama Jade steadied herself, drawing strength from the earth beneath her feet. Her voice, though cracked with age, carried across the gorge with surprising power.
“Give me my baby,” she called, each word rising like a command from the depths of her soul.
The kidnapper froze. There was something unshakable in Mama Jade’s stance—shoulders squared, eyes burning with a protective fire. She wasn’t threatening; she didn’t need to be. Her presence alone was enough to make anyone rethink a foolish decision. Slowly, hesitantly, the kidnapper lowered the child to the ground and backed away.
Mama Jade’s breath trembled, but her steps were steady as she crossed the narrow path leading toward her little one. When she finally gathered her baby into her arms, all the fear and strain melted. She held the child close, whispering promises of safety. And though the journey home would still be long, Mama Jade walked with new strength—proof that love, even in old bones, is a force that never grows weak.Attach
