Oliver led the detective through the door like this was a welcome visit with an old friend. I suppose we kind of were, weren’t we? We’d spent more time with the detective than with our actual friends, who had slowly disappeared over the months. I suppose there’s only so many cancelled play dates and unanswered calls a friendship can suffer before it dissolves. Depression is a lonely beast.

“Oliver.” The detective nodded to him, then me. “Felicity.” Her eyes skimmed the circle of anxious faces. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I hated that it had come to a first name basis, because it meant that we still needed the detective’s help, and that Vera was still missing. Yet it was a small comfort as well. Because a final goodbye to the detective would mean one of two things: Vera was found alive and was home safe, or Vera was found dead.

“No, not at all, Detective,” Oliver said.

“Mind if we have a quick chat?”

“Of course. Come in.” Oliver waved the detective further into the foyer.

With crisp footsteps, the detective approached me, the honey-gold glow of the setting sun framing her. Oliver tensed. Debra clutched Joe’s hand and whispered for the kids to run along. Cody shuffled awkwardly. All of us waiting, worrying, wondering.

My whole body had rejected seeing her on my porch, now in my home, parting the sea of people standing in the hallway. The perpetual state of alarm had become my default setting. Every phone call a jolt through me; every doorbell a wave of panic. Tonight, especially. For it was the anniversary I didn’t want to remember. Six months from the day Vera disappeared.

“How you hanging in there, Felicity?” the detective asked.

“Just trying to get through each day,” I said.

“That’s all you can do.” She patted my arm.

Packed into a gray button-down blouse, Detective Montgomery wore black jeans and flat shoes too manly for her pretty, fresh face. Her golden retriever-blonde hair was tucked into a neat bun. While she had been working with us since day one, I had been less than enthusiastic back then to meet this young rookie. It was a detail I bemoaned often enough, only wanting the best and brightest investigating Vera’s disappearance. A seasoned professional. I wasn’t going to speak delicately when my daughter’s life was at stake. So far I had been right in my harsh judgment, because Vera had yet to be found.

Detective Montgomery swept the room with a glance. “I wish I had some good news for you, God knows you deserve it, but unfortunately I’m here to speak with you about a possible development. Before you see it on the evening news.” Her voice was low and husky, a perfect fit for the man shoes.