I Recognized a Bracelet I Once Made With My Daughter and Asked About Its Story

For seven long years, my life existed in a quiet in-between space shaped by unanswered questions and enduring hope. My daughter, Hannah, disappeared at nineteen after telling me she was meeting a friend. There was no message, no explanation, and no clear ending—only silence.

I learned how to live with that silence, even as it reshaped holidays, routines, and my sense of time. Christmas, once my favorite season, became especially difficult. It reminded me of her laughter, her off-key singing, and the small traditions we shared.

I kept her room unchanged for years, not because I expected her to return suddenly, but because it helped me feel close to her in a world that no longer made sense.

Continue reading…