The Children Are Missing: Thirty Minutes of Terror
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Thursday evening, I am rinsing out a salad bowl in the ranch kitchen when Eira strides in, concern in her voice. “I can’t find the children anywhere,” she says. “I’ve searched and called. They’re not here.” It’s 8:30PM. The sun is about to set. Our ranch is 80 acres in the East Bay hills, but the main compound in which the children are permitted to freely roam is much smaller – 16 acres, bound in by a high deer fence.
The Children Are Missing: Thirty Minutes of Terror
The Children Are Missing: Thirty Minutes of…
The Children Are Missing: Thirty Minutes of Terror
Thursday evening, I am rinsing out a salad bowl in the ranch kitchen when Eira strides in, concern in her voice. “I can’t find the children anywhere,” she says. “I’ve searched and called. They’re not here.” It’s 8:30PM. The sun is about to set. Our ranch is 80 acres in the East Bay hills, but the main compound in which the children are permitted to freely roam is much smaller – 16 acres, bound in by a high deer fence.