The woman grabbed the grandson’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch it.”

He pulled away.

“Then tell me what it is!”

Grandpa kept staring beneath the chair, his lips trembling.

“I heard that sound the night your father disappeared.”

The boy froze.

“My dad?”

The parking lot seemed to go silent around them.

Grandpa swallowed hard.

“Ten years ago, he came to my house terrified. He said someone had hidden something in his car.”

The woman slowly stepped back.

The grandson looked at her.

“How do you know about this chair?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Because I saw a man switch it while your grandfather was inside the pharmacy.”

Grandpa’s breathing changed.

“What man?”

She reached into her coat and pulled out an old photograph.

The grandson took it.

His hands began shaking.

In the picture stood Grandpa, much younger.

Beside him was the boy’s missing father.

And between them stood the same woman.

The grandson looked up.

“Who are you?”

She struggled to answer.

Then the beeping stopped.

Complete silence.

A recorded voice came softly from beneath the wheelchair seat.

Grandpa went pale.

Because the voice belonged to his missing son.

“Dad… if you’re hearing this, they found you too.”