The day of Laura’s wedding was golden and glowing strings of Christmas lights, laughter in the backyard, and her barefoot joy spinning through dust and spilled punch. We leaned over the lemonade table, sticky and smiling, and I told her, “You’re really married now.” She beamed, but only for a second. I missed the flicker in her eyes, the moment her smile faltered. By morning, she was gone vanished from the motel room where she spent her wedding night. Her dress was folded neatly, phone untouched, no note left behind. The police searched, the pond was dragged, Luke was questioned, but Laura had disappeared like wind through dry corn. And with her went the light in Mama’s voice, the strength in Daddy’s shoulders, and the rhythm of our family’s heart.
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