In all my 40 years, I’ve never experienced the kind of panic I felt last Friday—the day my daughter and her babysitter disappeared without warning. What started as a normal day turned into one I’ll never forget. But before I explain what happened, let me give you some context.
My ex-husband, Daniel, and I finalized our divorce two years ago. It was a difficult time, and if there was one person who made it even harder, it was his mother, Brenda. She never approved of me and made her feelings crystal clear after the divorce. To avoid unnecessary tension, I kept our interactions brief, only discussing things related to our daughter, Lily.
Lily is five—bright, loving, and the absolute center of my world. That week, she had a mild cold. Daycare wouldn’t accept her, and I had to go to work. I didn’t want to involve Daniel or Brenda, so I turned to Jessica, our trusted babysitter. Jessica is a responsible college student who had cared for Lily many times. I had no reason to worry. That is, until I came home and found the house empty.
No laughter, no cartoons, no signs of Jessica or Lily. Just silence. I called out—nothing. My heart sank. I checked each room. No note. No message. That’s when I remembered the small tracking device I had discreetly placed in Lily’s backpack. I opened the app on my phone, and my heart nearly stopped.
The location: the airport.
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