My daughter disappeared during a family camping trip four years ago, and despite the searches, she was never found. People said she wandered off that night. I tried to live with that story until my nephew finally told me what he had seen and why he’d stayed silent.The projector was throwing soft light across my living room wall when the past came rushing in again. On the screen, Iris was five and laughing so hard she could barely blow the soap bubbles straight.I sat in the dark and smiled through tears because that old video was the closest I could get to hearing my daughter again. Back then, Luke and I were happy.We had Iris, fearless in the way only little girls can be, all scraped knees and wild curls and questions she expected the world to answer.

That summer, we planned a camping trip with family. Luke’s two brothers came with their wives and kids. My sister came with her son Liam, who was six then, quiet where Iris was bold, but devoted to her completely.ris treated him like a shadow she had chosen for herself. If she ran, he ran. If she whispered some plan, he followed.The first two days were beautiful. Swimming at noon, hot dogs at dusk, and songs by the fire after dark. Nothing felt wrong.Then came the third night.We adults were around the fire while the kids had flashlights and were exploring the woods nearby. At first, they stayed close enough that I could hear them. Then, the way children always do, they drifted just a little farther while the grown-ups got comfortable.