How a Flea Market Discovery Ended a Decade of Searching for My Daughter

from holding my phone. Rick constantly urged me to move on, raising the issue every year on her birthday, at Christmas, and whenever he saw me looking at her school portrait on the mantelpiece. “Enough living in the past, Marlene,” he would tell me. “Let our child rest.”

Denise tried to offer comfort in her own way. She came over one Thursday holding continue reading …