For a while, our little family almost felt complete again.

Not everyone liked that.

Emily's grandparents—my late wife's parents—believed that Emily belonged with them.

They constantly reminded me that raising a child alone wasn't enough.

"Emily needs her mother's family," they said.

I ignored them.

Everything changed on a rainy Friday in October.

Emily wanted to go to the school dance with Nora.

I declined because of the time constraints.

The discussion escalated faster than any of us expected.

Frustrated, I told him:

"Then maybe ask your grandparents if they know more than I do."

The words left my mouth before I realized how cruel they sounded.

Emily grabbed her coat and stormed out.

Nora ran after her.

"I will bring her home," she promised.

I watched them disappear down the sidewalk.

That was the last time I saw Emily for ten years.

Half an hour later, Nora returned alone.

She was standing on my porch, soaked, shivering, and covered in mud.

Where is Emily?

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