My daughter had her first sleepover at a friend’s place across town. Around midnight, her friend’s mom called, frantic—“She’s missing!” I tore through the streets, heart pounding, praying it was a joke. When I got there, the police were already searching. One officer pulled me aside and said, “We found something in the woods behind the house. It’s…”
My knees buckled before he finished the sentence. My heart was thudding so loud I could barely hear him. He held up my daughter’s pink hoodie—mud-streaked, torn at one sleeve, and soaking wet. I nearly collapsed.