Chapter 2

Then I woke up.

This morning.

The same Tuesday.

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, too bright, too normal.

My husband, Mark, was beside me, stretching.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, his voice a phantom from a life I'd already lost.

"Hey, can you take Emily to preschool today? Mom called, Carol's not feeling well."

His words hit me like a physical blow.

The same request. The same setup.

Emily. My Emily.

She was alive.

Down the hall, I could hear her humming.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. This was not a dream.

This was a second chance.

A terrifying, impossible second chance.

"No," I said, my voice hoarse.

Mark looked surprised. "No? Why not? Is everything okay?"

"I... I just want to spend the day with her," I managed. "She can miss one day of preschool."

He shrugged. "Alright, whatever you want. Just let Ms. Peterson know."

I nodded, my heart pounding.

I would not take Emily to Bright Beginnings. I would not go near that park.

I would keep her safe.

I got Emily dressed, made her breakfast, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the cereal box.

She chattered about her favorite cartoon, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.

I locked the doors, front and back. Checked the windows.

We played with her dolls in the living room, the television off, the world shut out.

Then the phone rang.

My blood ran cold.

Caller ID: Bright Beginnings Preschool.

I stared at it, my breath catching in my throat.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Emily asked, tilting her head.

I forced a smile. "Sure, sweetie."

I answered.

"Mrs. Miller? This is Ms. Peterson from Bright Beginnings. We were just wondering why Emily isn't here today."

Her voice, polite, concerned. The same voice that, in my memory, had told me I never arrived.

"Oh, hi Ms. Peterson," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Emily's not feeling too well. We decided to keep her home."

"Oh, I see. I hope she feels better soon. We'll miss her today."

"Thank you. We'll see you tomorrow."

I hung up.

Relief, a tiny, fragile thing, fluttered in my chest.

I changed one thing. She called me. Emily was still here.

"Mommy, can I have some juice?" Emily called from the kitchen.

"Coming, sweetie!"

I walked into the kitchen.

The juice box was on the counter.

The back door, the one I had double-checked was locked, stood wide open.

Emily was gone.

"Emily?" I screamed, my voice cracking. "EMILY!"

Silence.

The house was empty.

Locked. Secure.

But Emily was gone.