he wanted to say, then turned and walked toward the trees.
I got back into my car shaking.
That was when I saw the Polaroid on the passenger seat.
A little boy in a red shirt. Hair in his eyes. Crooked front tooth.
Daniel.
He’d been promoted to mayor while I was still looking for my child.
A photo I had never seen before in my life.
On the white border was an address, and under it, in shaky handwriting, my name.
I called the old sheriff. The one who
