My Tracker Disappeared Until My Dad Called And Told Me To Run

The bracelet was not in the drawer.

I stepped out of the shower and reached for it the way I had reached for it every morning for nineteen years: without looking, the way you reach for a light switch in a room you know by heart. My fingers found the lip of the wooden jewelry box, the velvet lining, the exact corner where I always set it.

Nothing.

I looked continue reading …