I had no interest in tracking either of them. Real freedom means no longer checking whether the people who hurt you are suffering.

Exactly one year after Victor sent the airport photo, I attended a medical logistics convention in Chicago. Whitaker Medical Logistics had won a regional excellence award.

My father, moving more slowly now with age, watched from the front table with tears in his eyes as I stepped forward to accept it.

After dinner, while attendees crowded the bar, my phone buzzed.

The number was unfamiliar.

For a moment, I considered leaving it unopened.