WHITNEY WENT TO the family room to check on Natalie. She found her curled up, fast asleep on the couch. After covering her with a throw blanket, she flicked off the family room light, shivering as darkness enveloped her. It was quiet. None of the usual noises sounded outside the thin walls of her apartment. No traffic or kids playing or people talking. It was a tangible indication of it being past the middle of the night.

Whitney would’ve given anything to go back in time. A year. A month. Even a week. Any time that wasn’t today. Any time when Amelia was home and safe.

When Amelia was an infant, Whitney savored every second. Watched her while she slept. Took dozens of pictures and videos. Those months were so clear in her mind. Every minute. Every detail. She was in awe of the miracle that her daughter was, never taking her for granted. Amelia felt like a blessing she didn’t deserve. She didn’t want to squander even one second of it.

But, eventually, the busyness of life took over. Days blended together. Memories became fuzzier. Photos and videos became scarce.

Today, though, life slowed down again. Every single detail was etched in Whitney’s mind with extreme clarity. Why had it taken this to get her to slow down?

She knew all the terrible things that could potentially happen to a missing sixteen-year-old but refused to let her mind go there.

Her throat was scratchy and dry. When was the last time she drank anything? Probably when Natalie made her tea. How many hours ago was that?

She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Food was probably a good idea, but there was no way she could force anything down. She was never one of those women who ate when she was stressed or upset. She was the opposite. When she and Dan split up, she got so thin people thought she was ill.

Bottle of water in hand, Whitney headed back to Amelia’s room. Her dream had stirred some questions in her mind. Given her avenues to explore.