Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

My hands began shaking.

Another message arrived.

**HE'S COMING TO FIND YOU.**

I stared at the screen.

For years, I'd imagined confronting my mother.

Demanding an explanation.

Asking why she let me live like a prisoner.

Now she was warning me about the man she'd spent decades defending.

I forwarded the messages to Detective Grant.

Then a third arrived.

**THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE HOSPITAL YOU DON'T REMEMBER.**

My heart pounded.

I typed:

**THEN TELL ME.**

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then my phone rang.

I answered.

"Mom?"

Her voice broke.

"Oh, Stacey."

Tears filled my eyes.

It had been four years.

Four years since I'd heard her call me by name.

For one terrible moment, I was a little girl again.

A little girl who wanted her mother to tell her everything would be all right.

Then I remembered the memorial photograph.

The locked bedroom.

The years I'd spent alone.