In the Living Years

In the Living Years “She’s gone! … She’s gone, baby! … She’s gone!” Lisa sobbed uncontrollably lying face down on the floor of our living room.  I quickly closed the front door behind me and threw myself onto the floor beside her. We wept together for what seemed like hours. Just minutes earlier, I had instructed her to call 911 when a family friend who was scheduled to take her mother to the airport stood outside her home calling her phone while knocking loudly and repeatedly ringing the doorbell; all with no response. Lisa, too, had been trying to...

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