Many Lost, Few Found
While we thread theories online, the bones of mothers, sisters and daughters wait to be found.
I am writing this at the kitchen table while my twelve year old eats breakfast. She’s excited about going to school. She’s presenting a silent, prop-less skit she made with a friend. It’s a murder mystery. My daughter is the victim and her friend is the victim’s hair stylist. I doubt any of her drama friends read this newsletter, so I’ll spoil the endin…
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