And lately, “whatever I could spare” had become almost everything.
Because four months earlier, my mother had disappeared.
Her name was Evelyn.
Mom and I had always been close, even though she wasn’t exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type.
She was organized almost to a fault.
Appointments were scheduled weeks ahead.
Receipts were stored in labeled folders.
She called me every Sunday evening at exactly eight.
Even the kitchen towels had designated places.
That was why her disappearance made absolutely no sense.
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