Because I was kidnapped as a child, my dad had a tracker embedded in my bracelet. That day, when I couldn’t find it, my dad called immediately: “Take nothing. Come downstairs immediately. Your brother is waiting in car…” – News

closet holding one of my cardigans, wearing his standard look of concerned affection.

“Found it?” he asked.

“No.” I took the cardigan and draped it over my shoulders. “I’m going to run down to the convenience store to grab something. Take a walk. Clear my head.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No need. Go to bed early.”

I flashed him a smile. That smile lasted exactly continue reading …