Dax
After Kandace leaves the house, I sit on the back porch with the box of pictures. For hours, I stare at my daughter, as more and more questions come to mind.
How was Kandace's pregnancy?
Was she sick?
Did her delivery go well?
Did she find out if she was having a boy or girl before Molly was born?
What was Molly like as a baby?
What was her first word?
How old was she when she rolled over, crawled, and walked?
The more questions that come to me, the more overwhelming five years becomes.
Five years.
It's after ten o'clock when my phone rings. Dad is on the screen.
“Hi," I answer.
“Have you learned any more about the Sheers girl?"
My eyes close and my jaw tightens. “Her name is Kandace, Dad. I mentioned her every damn year when I came back to Oakmont."
“And she had
