The Day My Five‑Year‑Old Disappeared
"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?"
These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning.
But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind.
"Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home."
I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight.
With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone.
"Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."