He gave her a cheek kiss, tousled the twins’ hair, and peered over their heads at me. We’ll get home before supper. And it’s likely that Jack will only catch weeds once more. Caleb laughed, Jack loudly objected, and I followed suit. That is the last typical memory I have of my husband and our twin boys.

I was checking the time way too frequently by the afternoon. I had made four calls to Ryan by the evening. The subsequent calls went directly to voicemail, but the first two rang out. A choking fear gripped my chest as the sun began to set and the driveway was still deserted. I traveled to the lake with a few folks from our block after leaving Lily with our neighbor.

We were the first to locate the boat. Ryan and the boys were nowhere to be seen when it drifted close to the north shore. The boat was gently rocking against the ripples, but there were no voices shouting across the lake. They still had their life jackets on. I yelled their names till my voice broke, but nobody responded.

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