A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

her pink backpack bouncing against her shoulders. She stopped right in front of me and began hopping on her left foot, her eyes bright with nervous energy.

“Mom, can we go to the bakery next to Daddy’s new apartment?” she asked, her high-pitched voice rising with excitement as she looked up at me.

“The one on High Street?” I asked, kneeling down to continue reading …