“So your solution was to stage a disappearance?” I asked him.
Mark sighed. “She was throwing up every morning, Zoe. Real, physical sickness from the stress. I thought I could give her a few days to breathe while we figured out a plan.”
“A plan involves talking to the other parent. What exactly was the endgame?”
Mark reached into the center console and pulled out a yellow legal pad. It was filled with Emily’s neat, looping handwriting.
