fourth night, Gary called me.
Cynthia was gone.
He told me, and later the police, that he had stepped out of their hotel room for less than fifteen minutes to pick up food. When he returned, our daughter had vanished.
There was no note.
No obvious trail.
Weeks of searching produced nothing.
Eventually, investigators told us the possibility every parent dreads: they believed Cynthia had been abducted.
I buried myself in work because staying busy was the only thing that kept my hands from shaking.
Gary did the opposite.
He
