In the photo, a little boy in a red T-shirt was smiling at someone behind the camera.
My son.
Ethan.
A photo I had never seen before in my life.
Then I noticed something written on the white border of the photo.
An address.
Only forty miles away.
My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the phone. I called the former sheriff who had led Ethan’s search all those years ago.
I held the Polaroid up to the screen.
The moment he saw it, his face went pale.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
“Linda… whatever you do, do not go to that address.”
But it was already too late.
I was already standing in front of the house.
My hand was already reaching for the door.
And when my fingers touched the handle…
The door slowly opened from the inside.
What I saw made my knees give out. 😱
