The school called. “Your daughter hasn’t been pick…

said. “I don’t have a daughter.”

There was silence on the line.

Then the woman exhaled, a tired, pinched sound that made her seem more inconvenienced than confused.

“Is this Lena Hail? 4500 Westland Drive?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then she’s your daughter,” the woman said. “She’s right here. She’s the last one, Ms. Hail. We’ve been calling for hours.”

My first thought continue reading …