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Part 1
For twenty years, I believed my daughter had disappeared from a garden in Cairo. Then one day, a postcard from Egypt arrived with an address only three miles from my home in Ohio. I thought it would be another cruel reminder of the past, but what I found there revealed that someone I once trusted had hidden the truth from me all along.
My daughter had vanished in Cairo when she was eight years old. Now, twenty years later, I was driving toward a row of rental garages with that postcard on the passenger seat and my heart pounding. I found unit forty-two, lifted the cold metal door, and prepared myself for the worst. Instead, I dropped to my knees.
There was a woman sitting on a folding chair beside three cardboard boxes. She had my eyes. She looked at me as if she had spent her whole life deciding whether to hate me.
I could barely breathe. “Tara?”
Her lips trembled, but she did not move. “I needed to know if you would come.”
Part 2
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