“I’m there, too. I hadn’t been drawn there that night. I simply wanted to be there. To see her. To feel whole. I stay back so I don’t scare her. Her father goes to her room and tells her they’ve found the little girl’s body. He is confused, I can tell. He’s scared. Not of Dutch, but of what she can do. What she can see. “Of course you found her,” Dutch says. “She told me where she was.” She is wearing a pink nightgown and lime green socks. Classic Dutch style. “How?” he asks. He stands and rakes... a hand through his hair. Dutch is confused, too. “She opened her mouth and told me.” “Charley,” he says, sitting beside her again. She is holding a doll and twirling its hair in her fingers. “How did she tell you, honey? I don’t understand.” She lifts a tiny shoulder, unable to comprehend what his problem is. “Sweetheart.” He takes the doll out of her hands and lifts her chin. “Explain to me exactly how … how she told you.” “Daddy, I don’t understand now.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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