Dad and I ride along in silence to the county morgue. It's a trip I think we've both been expecting to make sooner or later, but while she was still missing, there was still that tiny glimmer of hope that she was still out there somewhere, waiting for us to find her.
Now, that hope is gone. She's gone. All that's left now are the memories of her, which isn't nearly enough. How can it be?
I glance over at my dad to see silent tears streaming down his face. He and mom weren't on the best of terms here lately, but it was starting to get better. They were starting to be civil again after more than a year of constant bickering.
He's always been our protector. I know he feels like he failed her, failed me, after all that's happened. He was a Navy SEAL, a decorated veteran, a letha
