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.

I’d try to control every plate.

When Rose fussed, I stopped myself.

“Livia, do you want me to take her, or would you rather Mitchell?”

“Whoever you want.”

She looked at me, then smiled a little.

“You can take her, Mom.”

Before she left, she hugged me.

It was careful.

But it was real.

I had spent almost a year searching for my daughter,continue reading …