I am fifty years old now, but a part of me never made it past 2006.
That was the year my life split cleanly in two.
Before Daniel disappeared.
And after.
Before, I was just a mother driving down Route 9 with my seven-year-old son in the passenger seat, listening to him beg for a Sprite like it was the only thing that could save him from thirst…. Continue Reading ⬇️