My daughter never returned home after prom—eleven months later, something I accidentally discovered hidden inside my son’s beanbag chair turned my face completely pale.

beanbag chair.

I yanked the cord from the wall.

Instantly, something felt wrong.

It was too soft in one spot and too hard in another.

I flipped it over.

A long seam ran across the bottom, stitched with bright red thread.

Liam had never known how to sew.

Livia had.

My hands shook as I pulled at the thread.

Instantly, something felt wrong.

The fabric tore open.continue reading …