My heart pounded as I stared at the empty bed in my daughter’s room. Amber, my beautiful 13-year-old girl with blonde hair and freckles, had been missing for a week. It was the hardest thing I had ever experienced as a parent. Every moment felt like an eternity, every second without her a torment I couldn’t escape. The days dragged on, filled with a desperate hope that the next call, the next knock on the door, would bring her back to me.
Amber wasn’t the type to run away. I know every parent says that, but it’s true. Amber and I had a close bond, a connection that ran deep. She was a cheerful, responsible kid, always making me proud. The idea that she would just leave without a word was inconceivable. As each day passed without a trace of her, my fear grew, clawing at my heart. Something bad had happened to her, I was sure of it.
The Backpack
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