“She’s in the principal’s office.”
She looked about 13, taller and thinner, but it was her.
“Mom?” she whispered.
I crossed the room in seconds and dropped to my knees in front of her.
“My Grace,” I sobbed, pulling her into my arms.
She was warm. Solid. Real!
My daughter wrapped her arms around me as if she were afraid I’d disappear.
She looked about 13.
“Why did you never come for me?” she cried into my shoulder.
“I thought you were gone,” I choked.
Grace pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were red and scared. Before she could respond, someone stepped in behind us. It was Neil. He stood there, breathing hard.
Grace turned slowly. “Dad?”
He stared at her as if he were looking at something impossible.
“Why did you never come for me?”
“You knew she was alive,” I said.
“No,” he replied, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Then why did you try to stop me from coming?”
“Mary,” he said tightly, glancing at the principal. “We should talk in private.”
“No.”
I stood up and took Grace’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
“You knew she was alive.”
Neil followed us into the hallway. “You can’t just take her.”
“Watch me.”
