It’s as if my heart is bursting out of my chest. Nine-year-old Jubilee, our new adopted daughter, is beaming. She’s the little girl I always wanted and we’re finally taking her home. Three months later. ‘This can’t be happening,’ I say. ‘She can’t be gone. She’s just a little girl, our little girl. She was here in her bed last night. I remember. I . . .’ I feel the panic rising, my worst fear surfacing. What if I brought her home—only to be taken? Jubilee is not the first girl to go missing in our town. They found a body out in the cornfield—bones broken, a beautiful young girl gone. Our community has already lost so many daughters. Mine cannot be next.