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Back Confess to Me Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Sharon Doering
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
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  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
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  60. 55
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  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
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  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. Author’s Note
  86. Acknowledgements
  87. About the Author

Desiree Moss, 24, was charged with residential burglary and endangering the life or health of a child in connection with the 4:43 p.m. incident in the 600 block of Sheehan Road, the Hunther Police Department news release reported.

A juvenile was home alone in the residence and called police to report that a woman had entered her house through a window. The woman fled after encountering the girl. Investigators were able to identify the woman as Moss and arrest her.

The juvenile’s grandfather, Marty Gerritson, said of his granddaughter, “She’s a smart cookie, my granddaughter. Me and the missus have practically raised her since my daughter died. It’s not cheap though, raising another one these days. I’ve been working at the Home Depot in Yellow Valley, and Cassie is a nurse at Warm Hearts nursing home.”

According to a report by the Hunther police, there have been 18 residential burglaries since the start of the year. Hunther Commander Tom Stipes said there is nothing connecting this incident to the other break-ins, but they are not ruling out a connection.

Why would Desiree break into someone’s house? She had a full-time job. Sure, she wasn’t raking in cash as a swim instructor, but she didn’t seem money-hungry. She wasn’t the type who talked about designer handbags or shoes or what she had her eye on.

Drugs. That was the obvious answer. She needed money for drugs.

I turned the corner of the next aisle. Lunchboxes! Two dozen of them. And there, front and center on the shelf, like a platinum ring among fourteen carat gold, was a unicorn lunchbox.

Zipper had to be broke. Pessimist to my core.

But the zipper ran smoothly, without hesitation, right along the track. It was a clean, unbroken, lavender lunchbox with a white unicorn, its horn glittery silver, its mane and tail sky blue. Em would love it.

In addition to the lunchbox, I bought snacks for lunch, a pack of gummy bears for Em, and a Snickers bar for Sawyer. The parking lot was well-lit and mostly empty, moths fluttering near the yellow glow of overhead lampposts.

Inside my car, I locked the doors, tossed the lunchbox and bag of snacks into the backseat, and slid the candy into a mostly empty glove box. I’d put a Maglite in there.

I started my car and went to plug my phone into the charger but my charger was gone. Damn it, Sawyer. He had a habit of taking whatever he needed whenever he wanted without bothering to tell us. Quintessential teenager. My phone had 6 percent battery left.

That’s OK. This will be quick.

I opened Google Maps and searched Hunther Police Department.

“If I’m being honest, some of my patients, well, their stories frighten me.”

Doctor Clifford Paulson, PhD Psychology
Transcripts from the Sixth Annual Conference on
Adult Manifestations of Childhood Trauma

THE RADISSON PLAZA HOTEL, CINCINNATI, OHIO

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