nineteen years old.
Of course she had friends I didn’t know.
But after that conversation, I began noticing something strange.
Whenever I asked about Mia or tried to get more details about Sophie’s life at the resort, my daughter suddenly became vague.
“Everything okay up there?” I asked once.
“Everything’s great, Mom. Stop worrying.”
So I did my best to stop.
Or at least pretend to.
When summer finally ended, I volunteered to drive up and bring Sophie home.
I left before sunrise.
About forty minutes from the resort, I
