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My son, 4, vanished in the mall.

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unaware that fear sits on my chest like a living thing.

The next afternoon, I take him to the playground again, my nerves stretched so tight they hum. I scan every bench, every shadow. My phone is ready in my hand. He runs toward the swings, laughing, small shoes slapping against the pavement.

Then I see her.

She stands near the oak tree at the edge continue reading …

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