I came back from a business trip, and the first thing my seven-year-old son said was, “Don’t go into my room.” Of course, I went in anyway.

him and gently placed my hands on his shoulders.

“When did you last see her?”

His lower lip shook.

“I don’t know.”

“Did she go outside?”

He shook his head.

“Did someone come to the house?”

His eyes darted toward the hallway again.

Then I noticed something.

A faint strip of light was shining from under Bennett’s bedroom door.

I knew I’d turned everything off continue reading …