It always begins in the ordinary. A quiet street at dusk holds its breath. A teenager turns toward the mailbox, her last few seconds of normalcy ticking away. The squeak of sneakers on pavement, the click of a porch light coming on. Elsewhere, a car sits on a highway shoulder, coffee cooling in the cup holder. The last known movements: a quick stop for gas, a single unanswered phone call. Frag...
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