Torn wrapping paper lay everywhere like confetti at the world’s saddest party.
“I have a video,” Melody said simply, her finger hovering over the screen.
Let me back up and tell you how we got here. Because twenty minutes ago, this was supposed to be the perfect Christmas.
I’m Amanda, thirty-four years old, a dental hygienist who thought the hardest part of my life was behind me. Two years after my divorce, I’d finally gotten my feet back under me. My kids were adjusting. We’d moved back to my hometown in Ohio to be near my parents, Patricia and Robert, who’d been our rock through everything.
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