I threw Hannah’s bag into the backseat of my Toyota. I looked back. She was asleep. “Sorry, sweetie,” I said softly.

I had just pulled out of our subdivision when my cell phone rang. I checked the number. It was work.

“Hello.”

“Elise, it’s Shirlee,” my boss said. “We’ve got a problem.”

“With who?”

“The Tremonton group. Did you book the Smithsonian for today?”

“No, they’re tomorrow.”

“No, we changed it, remember?”

I groaned. “That’s right.”

“They’re standing outside the Smithsonian. They’re telling them that our vouchers aren’t good.”

“Just call the office of direct sales. Natalie will let them in.”

“Where’s the number?”

“It’s in my Rolodex on my desk. Look under Smithsonian.”

“Just a minute.” There was a long pause. “You don’t have Smithsonian here.”

“Of course I do.”

“I looked through all the S’s, Elise. It’s not here.”

I was puzzled. “I don’t know where it would be. It’s got to be there.”

“Do you have it in your phone?”

“No.”

Shirlee groaned. “There’s the driver on the other line. He’s got to go. He’s got another pickup.”

“Just tell him to wait a second, I’ll be right there.”

I sped into the office. I pulled into a parking place and ran inside. I had accidentally filed the Smithsonian card under N for Natalie. But that’s not the only mistake I made. I left my three-year-old Hannah in the car on the hottest day of the year.

I’ve heard it said that there’s no greater pain than losing a child. But there is. It’s being responsible for your child’s death. The day it happened to me is indelibly etched into my mind. People have questioned the existence of hell, but I can tell you it’s real. I’ve been there. Seeing my beautiful little girl’s lifeless body in the backseat of my car was hell.

I don’t know how long it took for the switch to connect, but after work when I got to my car I just looked at her, the sight incomprehensible. Why was Hannah in the car? Why wasn’t she moving? Then reality poured in like a river of fire. I pulled her out, screaming at the top of my lungs. A crowd gathered around me. I tried CPR, I tried mouth-to-mouth, I prayed with everything I had for a miracle, for a heartbeat, for a single breath, but she had been gone for hours. The world swirled around me like a tide pool, spinning me out of control. The paramedics arrived. The police arrived. There was talk of heatstroke and core temperatures and hyperthermia. I fell to the ground unable to walk, unable to do anything but scream and babble, to plead for my baby’s life.