Seven Years After My Daughter’s Funeral, I Followed Her Husband to a Rehabilitation Center—And Saw a Woman I Thought Was Dead
Every record you received.”
He nodded.
“I’ll bring them.”
I looked at Dorothy’s notebook.
“And we’re going to reopen the county identification.”
He said nothing.
I continued.
“I buried my daughter once because I trusted a file I hadn’t fully examined.”
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