My four-year-old daughter, Emma, stood completely still for a moment—then suddenly rushed toward the pastor, shouting something that brought the entire room into stunned silence.

er mother to look indestructible.

“The night we went to her house,” he stammered. “When you told me to sleep with the pink blanket. I was thirsty. I went downstairs and saw her.”

The pink blanket.

That night.

Everything returned with unbearable cruelty.

The twins had been restless.