Amanda Goes to Neighbor’s Garage Sale, Finds Her Missing Daughter’s Jacket

Kaylee’s daughter, Amanda, had been missing for two weeks. Despite extensive efforts by both Kaylee and the police, there was no trace of Amanda. One day, after putting up more flyers, Kaylee stopped by her neighbor’s garage sale and was horrified to see Amanda’s jacket—the very one she had been wearing the night she disappeared.

Kaylee had been tirelessly posting flyers around the city, hoping for any leads. Amanda had run away from home, her phone was off, and her friends had no information. Initially, Kaylee thought it was just teenage rebellion, but as days passed, her concern grew into panic.

Kaylee asked her neighbor Angela where she got the jacket. Angela, shocked, explained she had bought it at a second-hand store near the bus station. Kaylee, desperate for answers, hurried to the store.

The seller vaguely remembered a girl matching Amanda’s description who argued about the price because she needed money for a bus ticket. Kaylee found a piece of paper with an address in one of the jacket pockets, leading to Amanda’s biological mother’s town.

Kaylee drove to the address and learned Amanda had visited but had since left. Heartbroken, Kaylee drove to the local police station and noticed a girl sitting on the porch of an abandoned house. It was Amanda. They embraced, apologized, and headed home together, relieved and renewed.

VA

Related Posts

When I found her by the roadside, she was wearing only thin pajamas

The snow didn’t fall on Blackwood Ridge; it assaulted it. The wind howled through the skeletal trees like a dying animal, stripping the warmth from the air…

“Please don’t let Mom know,” he begged

I know the exact time because I’d been awake for hours, watching the red digital numbers on my nightstand tick forward with that peculiar, mocking insistence that…

I never told my son-in-law I was a retired military interrogator

The smell of vanilla extract and browned butter filled my kitchen, a scent designed to disarm. To the outside world, and specifically to my son-in-law, Mark, this…

I never told my family that I earn a million dollars a year

The dining room chandelier was a gaudy thing, dripping with faux crystals that scattered fractured light across the Thanksgiving table. It was much like my family: flashy,…

I never told my mother-in-law that my daughter, whom she treated like

My daughter stood before the crowded dining table, a shimmering anomaly in a room suffocated by beige propriety. She was seven years old, draped in a sparkly…

I never told my parents I was a federal judge after they abandoned me ten years ago

The chambers of a Federal Judge are designed to be intimidating. The mahogany walls, the high ceilings, the absolute silence that swallows sound—it all serves to remind…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *