CHAPTER TWENTY-THREERyan
May 15, 2016
“Hey J,” I yell out as we walk through the door. Thomas races past me and almost trips on Carter’s dog leash. I drop the mail on the table in the entryway and unhook the leash from his collar.
“J?” I call out. “Jenna, are you here?”
When I enter the kitchen, I see my wife hanging up the phone, and there is a strange energy lingering in the air. On the kitchen table is the folder—the one full of news clippings and printouts of stories from when Jenna and Mallory disappeared. I haven’t seen that folder for years.
Jenna is crying and holding onto the counter.
“What’s wrong?” I rush over to her.
“Mommy, look, look . . .” Thomas runs into the kitchen and pulls on Jenna’s shirt. “Daddy and I found these at the park.” He is holding two rocks in his han
