“Angie!” she shouted. “Thank God.” Amanda started hugging and scolding her at the same time. “We’ve been worried sick. I called the sheriff. Your dad hired detectives. I was afraid you were dead, though your dad was sure you were still alive.” She pulled out her phone and started to call, “I’ve got to let him know. He’s acted so calm, but inside he’s got to be frantic. It’s a wonder he hasn’t had a heart attack.” Still in shock, Angie listened as her cousin told her father that she’d been found safe and well and that she didn’t have a clue, a single clue as to what had happened, but they’d be there as soon as possible. Her eyes widening, Amanda completed the call, staring at Angie with David still clasped sobbing in her arms. “Who is that little boy?” she asked. Then before Angie could answer, she went on, “He looks like David, or at least the way I remember David. Of course it’s been so long ago and I was so young, I probably can’t remember .
