She vanished just as the year ended—our precious daughter, Margaret! There were no clues leading up to this shocking turn of events. Her husband, Jeff, was beside himself. Her son, Robby, and daughter, Lindsay, were left without their mother, burdened with questions that weighed heavy on all our hearts. Did she simply give up and need time away? Was she overwhelmed by the challenges life throws at all of us? Had depression wrapped its claws around her, leaving her feeling hopeless, unable to face how others might see her? Or were there struggles in her marriage to Jeff that became too much to bear? Did she meet someone and decide to leave her old life behind, seeking an escape from her problems? So many questions, yet no answers. How long must we wait in this suffocating darkness, not knowing the where and why of Margaret’s disappearance? Our last moments with her were so ordinary, so full of life. We had gathered in Selma, Alabama, at the house where she grew up, surrounded by the warmth of family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. It was the house of happy memories: childhood laughter, schoolboy crushes, and stories of boyfriends from her college days. Margaret had always been a magnet for people. She made friends easily, and though she had her heart broken more than once, she always bounced back, announcing with a bright smile that she had found love again. She followed her passion for numbers, becoming an accountant like her father, grandfather, and older brother, Thomas. She’d been a natural at it since childhood, sitting on her daddy’s knee, happily solving puzzles and equations. The memories of our sweet Margaret flood my mind. She was so kind-hearted, shy at first, but she blossomed into the life of every party. People were drawn to her, her energy, and her kindness. And then Jeff came along. She met him in her third year at university. Tall, handsome, and irresistibly charming, Jeff had a way of making people feel seen. It wasn’t hard to understand why Margaret fell head over heels. Their chemistry was magnetic—her quick wit and laughter perfectly matched his charm. It wasn’t long before they were married, filled with dreams of a future: kids, vacations, and building a beautiful life together. They worked hard, achieved success, and raised two wonderful kids. How is it possible, after years of happiness and love, that we now find ourselves desperately searching for her? The call came as we sat down for an early supper. Jeff’s voice on the line was strained, almost unrecognizable. Fear clutched my chest as his words pierced through the air: Margaret was missing—vanished without a trace. No one had heard from her since 3 p.m. It was now December 30th, 4:30 p.m., and everything felt unreal. One moment, life seemed steady; the next, it was like a bomb had exploded, shattering everything we thought we knew. Where could she be? The question would haunt us, repeated endlessly, as the search for Margaret began. My husband and I booked a flight to Mobile, Tennessee that night. Sitting by the phone, doing nothing, was unbearable. At the very least, we could comfort Robby and Lindsay and support Jeff, whom we love like a son. The flight was short, but the wait felt eternal. When we arrived at the house Margaret shared with her family, it was oddly comforting—her presence lingered in every corner. But nothing made sense. Had we missed signs of trouble? Jeff was busy making calls, frantic but determined. The pain of Margaret’s absence was a heavy weight on us all. We tried to remain positive, holding onto hope, even as uncertainty pressed down on us. The police arrived later, asking routine questions. They didn’t see a need for immediate action—no evidence suggested foul play. They would wait 24 hours before initiating a formal search. None of us slept that night. Morning arrived, pale and gray, offering no comfort. Jeff was back on the phone with the police, and finally, a search was announced. Still, Robby and Lindsay seemed lost, unable to process the nightmare unfolding around them. Family and friends began arriving at the house, offering their support and joining the search. Some cried quietly, while others sat in silence, their faces etched with worry. Everyone had the same unspoken question: Will we find Margaret alive? Our son Thomas flew in later that morning. My husband and I picked him up from the airport, trying to keep our emotions in check. He and Margaret were close, just a few years apart. As her older brother, he’d always been her protector. Seeing his pain only deepened ours. When we returned to the house, we found Jeff missing. Friends and family filled the living room, but his absence was glaring. Where was he? His children needed him now more than ever. Hours passed before a car pulled into the driveway. Jeff stumbled out, his movements unsteady. The smell of alcohol hit us before he even reached the door. His face was pale, and his eyes darted around, avoiding ours. It was clear he wasn’t in a state to help. His behavior raised questions we hadn’t dared ask before: Was there something about Jeff and Margaret’s relationship that we didn’t know? Jeff’s behavior had grown unnervingly pious, and our concern deepened with every passing hour. The tension between Jeff, Trevor, and Lindsey became palpable—what once seemed normal now filled me with unease. Others around me sensed it too, and we began discussing it in hushed tones, careful to keep our suspicions away from Jeff and the kids. As the search for my daughter Margaret—Jeff’s wife and the mother of our grandchildren—intensified, the police kept us updated, though no evidence suggested foul play. Despite the lack of answers, secrecy seemed to envelop Jeff. He withdrew more and more, as if hiding something, and the uneasiness in the household became impossible to ignore. Four days had passed since Margaret vanished. We tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy for the children, deciding they should return to school. Jeff, after three days of turmoil, finally returned to work for a few hours. But while he was away, our son Thomas took it upon himself to search Jeff and Margaret’s home office for clues. What he found left us reeling. Margaret’s diary revealed a side of her life we had never imagined. Hesitant but desperate for answers, we read it, hoping it would shed light on her disappearance. What we discovered was devastating. Margaret had been living in turmoil, her home life far from the picture of happiness we had believed. Jeff’s controlling behavior had left her and the children walking on eggshells. She had been trying to hold her family together, but her pain was overwhelming. It was through her diary that we learned of Grant—a colleague turned confidant, who became her escape from the darkness at home. Their friendship had evolved into a love she hadn’t sought but found solace in. We couldn’t help but wonder: had Jeff discovered this affair? By day six of Margaret’s disappearance, the situation took a shocking turn. The police arrived at the house with evidence linking Jeff to not only Margaret’s disappearance but also the suspected kidnapping of Grant Keller. A witness had come forward. He was a friend of Grant’s who had seen Jeff and Margaret together on the afternoon she disappeared. The witness admitted he had been hesitant to speak out but felt compelled to share what he knew. He had seen Jeff approach Margaret outside her workplace that day. Margaret appeared startled, and when she tried to leave, Jeff forcibly dragged her to his car before driving away. At the time, the witness doubted what he saw, convincing himself it couldn’t have been real. But as days turned to nights, the weight of his silence became unbearable. When Margaret’s disappearance made the news, he finally came forward, determined to bring the truth to light. A manhunt for Jeff was launched. The police guarded our home while we did our best to shield the children from the grim reality unfolding around them. Days passed without any word from Jeff. The walls of secrecy surrounding him were beginning to crumble, and with them, so was any hope we had left for a happy ending. The truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered. But as we braced ourselves for what lay ahead, one question haunted us all: Would we ever see Margaret again? After enduring sleepless nights and clinging to the hope that Margaret was still out there, the harsh reality began to set in: we might never see her again. Our sweet Margaret would never have left her children willingly; something terrible must have happened. Just hours after returning from picking up the kids from school, we received devastating news from the detective handling the case: Jeff had been apprehended while attempting to cross state lines. He confessed to kidnapping and murdering both Grant and our beloved Margaret. He even provided a map indicating where he had buried them, and the police were en route to those locations. It was an overwhelming and bitter end to our nightmare. Jeff had discovered Margaret’s relationship with her colleague by reading her diary, and his jealousy over the perceived betrayal drove him to violence. He waited at her workplace, first attacking Grant with a knife, then ambushing Margaret in the underground parking lot. He assaulted her, rendering her incapable of escaping, and drove them both to an abandoned building miles away from the city. There, he mercilessly killed them and buried them in shallow graves, showing little remorse for his actions. Grant’s friend Mark had witnessed only the attack on Margaret, unaware that both his friend and Margaret would not survive the horrors of that day. Explaining to the grandchildren that their mother was never coming back and that their father was in jail for taking her life, along with that of a colleague, was indescribably painful. Jeff pleaded guilty to two counts of murder and was sentenced to life without parole. As parents, the depth of our pain and suffering is beyond words, knowing our grandchildren have lost both parents—one to death and the other to a lifetime in prison for murder. It’s uncertain whether the children will desire any relationship with their father in the future. For now, we have relocated to Alabama, living in the very house where their mother grew up, striving to build a new life far removed from the one we left behind. There will always be a void in our hearts for our daughter; her presence will be especially missed during Christmas time. We must carry on for the sake of our grandchildren, living in honor of Margaret. She will be forever loved and remembered until our dying days.