My Daughter Never Came Home From Prom—Eleven Months Later, What I Accidentally Found Inside My Son’s Beanbag Chair Made Me Go White as a Ghost

arm, her impatient smile betraying both confidence and eagerness.

“Stay together tonight,” I told them, my voice tight with anxiety.

“We always do, Mom,” Liam reassured, squeezing her hand.

Livia rolled her eyes.

“Mom, we’re 18, not eight.”

“I know,” I said, tucking a curl behind her ear. “That’s why I’m nervous. Stay together tonight.”

John, my husband,continue reading …