A sudden knock came from the front door. Her father squeezed her arm reassuringly. “That’s probably the police,” he said. “Are you ready to talk with them?”
“What do I tell them?” Heather asked. “They’ll think I’m a liar or that I’m crazy. . . . Or both.”
Her father took her arm and began to steer her down the hallway. “Just tell them what you told us. Tell them the truth. That’s all you can do even if it sounds crazy or others think you’re lying. I hope that nothing has happened . . . that it’s all a misunderstanding, but if it isn’t . . . if something has happened and someone is in trouble, we have to do what’s in our power to help.”
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