My chest tightened at the mention of my sister. “Any word from the authorities?”
“Nothing yet,” Agnes replied. “But your father is in constant contact with the enforcement teams.”
I climbed the familiar staircase to the second floor. My childhood bedroom was exactly as I had left it years ago.
The pale blue walls were decorated with photos from my youth. My old desk still held books from my university days.
But it was Grace’s crayon family portrait drawing on my nightstand that broke my composure. The colorful stick figures showed our blended family - Richard, Natalie, Grace, and me.
Grace had drawn us all holding hands with big smiles on our faces. She had written “My Family” in her childish handwriting at the bottom.
Tears began streaming down my face as I picked up the drawi
