But the longer I examined it, the more I noticed what was missing.
Sofia’s drawings had disappeared from the refrigerator.
The photograph of Elena that used to sit on the hallway table was gone.
The little ceramic horse Sofia had painted in primary school had been moved from the living room to a shelf in the laundry room.
I found her school trophies inside a cardboard box in the storage closet.
I stood there for a long time, staring at them.
Someone had not simply mistreated my daughter.
Someone had been systematically removing her from her own home.
I returned to the kitchen.
“Sofia, pack a bag with whatever you want to take.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you can sleep without worrying about who’s coming through the door.”
She looked frightened.
“Are you leaving the house?”
“No. We’re going to stay with my brother until I know what we’re dealing with. I’ll come back for the things you need.”
