My Daughter Disappeared Ten Years Ago—Then I Woke to a Pool Full of Rubber Ducks and a Note That Made Me Scream

and stopped himself.

Mrs. Whitaker noticed.

So did I.

We passed a bulletin board covered with children’s drawings of monarch butterflies. One had a crooked orange wing and the words, We helped him fly written underneath.

Roger looked at it too long.

“Roger,” Mrs. Whitaker said softly, “the room is ready.”

Something old and cold moved through me.

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