Glenn Race loved video games.
He was 11 years old.
It was April 22nd, 1991.
He was in his house, his eyes on the screen, his hands on the game.
He was utterly unaware that from this very moment, nothing in his life would ever be the same.
Something was happening just outside the door.
I remember looking out the peephole into the garage and seeing my parents talking.
Now he looks back all these years later and struggles to remember.
Did he hear something?
Did he sense the trouble?
Memory, just out of reach.
It was too late anyway.
And maybe it was better the boy not know what awful choices he and his sisters would one day be forced to make.
Glen Race and his sisters Joanne and Caitlin lived in a perfectly ordinary suburb, though other children might well have envied them for their neighbor, California's famous Magic Mountain.
The parents he had seen through the peephole were John and Ann Race.
They'd been married 19 years.
He was an ex-sheriff's deputy, she a former teacher, now a stay-at-home soccer mom.
Anyone would have thought they were happy.
Didn't they all have a wonderful time at Glenn's cousin's wedding just the week before he looked through the peephole?
Didn't his parents dance happily together?
Who could have known about the secret Ann was keeping from her unsuspecting husband?
She told me that she was thinking about leaving John.
Long before it happened, Ann revealed her feelings to a select few in her church women's group.
Something was wrong with her marriage.
She said, well, I don't feel like I love him anymore.
I'm tired of his tightness.
He's tight with money.
This is Anne's close friend, Deanne Wood, a woman who knew Anne's organized, deliberate ways very well.
Very organized, very meticulous, planned everything.
She knew what she was going to do when and where she put things.
And I'm off looking for where did I put this, where did I put that, and she would know exactly where it was.
Exactly.
Deanne knew that in the days after the family wedding, Anne had completed a careful secret plan to leave John Race.
She'd researched their finances, so she knew what she was entitled to.
She'd signed a six-month lease on a condo a mile from the family home.
She'd prepared for a quick and seamless departure while John was at work.
She just said she was afraid of how John would react when he saw the note and saw that she was gone and some of their things were gone and the kids were gone.
And now it was the afternoon of April 18th, 1991.
Anne picked up the children from school.
They went to the condo.
I just remember it was a lot smaller place, of course.
Did you have your own room?
I don't remember.
I don't think so.
John Rice came home to a Dear John letter and an empty house and divorce papers.
That night Deanne helped a worried Anne hide her car so that John wouldn't see it, parked in front of the new condo and discover where she and the kids had moved.
On the 19th, Ann told Deanne she may have worried for nothing.
She said he wasn't as mad as I thought.
He was angry, but he only yelled a couple times.
And I said, oh, okay.
But I said, well, just don't let your guard down if you are still worried.
Anne spent the day at the beach with her children.
And later she reluctantly agreed to meet twice with John and their pastor for counseling over the weekend.
John begged Anne to return and rethink her decision to move out and file for divorce.
But Anne was adamant about leaving.
Still, she didn't want to keep John from the children.
And so April 22nd, 3 pm, an after-school visit for John Glenn at his video game.
His mother talking to his father outside.
Did you see what they looked like, whether they were angry at each other or how they were talking?
I don't remember.
I have pretty limited memories of that day.
Looked out of the peephole on the front door to the garage, saw my mom in the car and my dad standing outside of the car and they were talking.
And that's pretty much what I remember.
That was it?
Yeah.
No great violent fight.
Nobody storming off in a huff.
Nobody coming in and screaming or yelling.
No, no.
He doesn't remember watching her pull out of the garage or drive down the street.
Didn't seem very important to him at the time, though of course it was earth-shattering.
Later that evening Glenn learned from his father that his mother had decided to take suddenly a vacation from him, from the kids, from everything.
How could he know that the view through the people would be the last time he ever laid eyes on his mother?
She just left to think about things, is what I recall him saying, and that she would come back.
Do you remember feeling reassured by that or upset?
I believed him and went along with that, assuming she would come back at some later point from this vacation.
Of course, it had been a strange week already.
Perhaps this was simply more incomprehensible adult behavior, except for one thing, which even a boy of 11 knew was a very, very bad thing.
Did your mom come to say goodbye?
Not that I remember.
You remember it seeming strange or... not right?
Yes, I remember it seemed strange, very much so.
And so began the long, strange vacation of Anne Race and her son's painful journey to the true story of April 22 1991.
We all want to know the truth of what happened, especially something this important in my life.
And I would like more than anything to know the truth of the situation.
Since he was 11 years old, Glenn Race, along with his two sisters, had been living a truth.
Their father told them that on April 22 1991, their mother simply left, went on vacation, never came back.
I went along with that because my dad told me that.
But why, he remembers wondering, why didn't she say goodbye?
Why didn't she leave any clothes for him and his sisters to wear to school the next day?
I wondered about it after the fact, but I didn't.
I didn't pick up on it until.
Until.
Yeah.
Still, he felt safe there with his dad, content with his dad's assurances.
It was Glenn's older sister, Joanne, who got to worrying.
After a week without a word from her mother, Joanne began contacting her mother's friends and relatives.
Anne's niece, Kathy Getman, had been aware of Anne's secret plan to leave John.
That was really weird.
There was no way she was going to leave the kids with him.
Kiss mommy.
Amy and sister, Kathy's mom, agreed this wasn't like Ann at all.
So she ensured that a missing persons report was filed.
It was 10 days now, after all.
By this time becoming very concerned, I would think.
Yes, more concerned after I saw him.
Saw John, that is, and found him, well, not helpful.
He seemed to ration the information he had about Ann in small drips.
It wasn't natural.
He tells me some one day, some one day, and some another day.
So the little wheels are turning in your mind.
And what are you thinking at that?
I'm thinking something's wrong.
And he had something to do with it?
Yes.
But I don't want to think that awful thing.
Most of the world assumed the marriage was fine.
But Ann's sister and niece knew better.
I knew she wasn't happy and complained about John's obsessive penny-pinching, about his controlling behavior.
He was the one bringing in the money, so I think he felt he had the control.
This is how it will be spent.
This is when it will be spent.
Ann told her friend Deanne that she'd been hinting at divorce for at least three years, but John wouldn't have it.
He said, it doesn't matter if we're dysfunctional.
It's better to look good and to be married than to have a divorce.
Is that what she told you?
Yeah.
Image was everything to him.
Image and money.
Those two things were everything to him.
Which is why Anne was determined to keep John from discovering her plan to leave him.
She was afraid he'd try something to stop her.
And so when Deanne heard that Anne had gone missing, the reaction seemed to come right out of her gut.
I said, my God, John killed her.
Had he?
By May 13th, 21 days since Glenn and his sisters had last seen their mother, it was clear to both Amy and the local police that a missing persons investigation wasn't enough anymore.
It had to be something much more serious.
Which is how these two got involved.
We came in late.
Missing persons came in late.
Frank Salerno and Louis the Hat Danoff were veteran homicide detectives with the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department.
They'd seen and solved some of the toughest cases in L.A. history.
The Night Stalker, the Hillside Strangler.
Just how tough could this case in the suburbs be?
Valencia is kind of like, you know, a place that doesn't exist anymore.
It's sort of crime-free, you know, affluent, this thing and that.
The detectives met with Anne's husband, John Race, who told them what he'd already told his kids and Anne's family.
What was his story initially?
It was that they were going through a divorce, that she agreed to go away and think about it, that he was giving her a total of 25000 and that she left.
As simple as that.
Well, not quite that simple.
John Race told detectives he met Anne twice after April 22nd to give her money.
He also said she called him to say she was leaving her car at an airport shuttle parking lot called the Flyaway, that she was going to leave from Los Angeles International Airport.
The only thing she didn't say, John told them, is where she was going.
Right away, we're thinking, wait a minute.
His story does not hold any water.
As they poked around for clues, Detective Danoff and Salerno felt the familiar tug of suspicion grow.
And each time they talked to John Race, that feeling intensified.
We could not get by him and it was his story and then it was all of his little mannerisms and stuff.
And that's what we've been trying to do.
Get beyond you.
Get somewhere else.
That's all we're trying to do.
We're trying to locate your wife.
Are you beyond me yet?
No.
Okay, what else do I have to do?
I don't know if I should be worried about Ann or mad at her when she comes back.
He's saying the right words.
I love her.
I want her back.
I'm a good husband.
I'm a good father.
But his body is basically saying, where are you guys going next?
What are you going to do?
Why do you need to do that?
And a person doesn't do that unless he's trying to hide something.
I got a deputy sheriff that's basically playing a game with us, with me.
He's trying to beat you in your head.
He's playing his game, and it's definitely a chess game.
John, all we're after is the truth.
The truth is... I didn't do anything improper, and I want Ann back.
I'll do anything to get Ann back.
You gave me two choices, John.
I gave you one.
These were two supremely experienced detectives.
They were sure they had their man.
There's no doubt he killed her.
What happened?
Did he follow her?
Was he able to get into her car?
Was he able to say, can we talk five more minutes?
Can you get into my car?
Who knows?
But without evidence, the investigator's match of wits and facts with John Race remained a draw.
Did John kill Anne?
And if not, where was she?
He said that she left us and went to start a new life or something to that effect.
At the age of 11, Glenn Race became a motherless boy, abandoned, or so his dad told him.
What was a boy to think?
He would have been appalled to know what detectives now believe.
That by the time the sun set on April 22, 1991, it was almost certain that Anne Race was dead.
And Glenn Race's father was their only suspect.
We couldn't get by the guy that's closest to the victim, and that is the husband.
John Race, an ex-deputy sheriff, had never wavered from his story that the only mystery about his wife's disappearance was where she was vacationing, which to Salerno and Danoff made no sense at all, went against everything we learned about her.
She didn't travel alone.
She always let people know where she was.
Everything he told us went against her life patterns.
She was a woman of precise organization and preparation.
Unbelievably organized.
The detectives discovered that Anne had left a roadmap of her life, an amazing paper trail of detailed calendars notes, lists for her everyday activities and future plans.
And they also found a letter, which arrived after she disappeared, from a guy named Bob, a desperate plea from a worried man who wasn't her husband.
Bob, the detectives learned, was an old high school friend of Anne's.
They'd been writing to each other for more than a year, sometimes almost every day.
Then suddenly, in late April 1991, her letters suddenly stopped.
The detectives tried to check out the clues.
An unworried John offered about his wife's movements, and they became increasingly suspicious.
Clue number one John told them he met Anne twice after her departure to give her money, both times at local eateries.
And not a soul could remember seeing either one of them in either restaurant.
Clue number two.
John said he moved Ann's car into the shade at the flyaway parking lot.
Really?
At the time, there wasn't a single shade tree in the entire lot.
Clue number three.
Anne supposedly parked the car there on Thursday morning, almost three days after she left John.
But here's the thing.
They call it the flyaway, because a shuttle from there takes you directly to your flight at LA airport.
And yet John claimed Anne did not call him from the payphone at the airport until the next day.
If she parked at the flyaway on Thursday, why didn't she call from the airport until Friday?
And clue number four, if she left John on Monday but didn't leave town until Friday...
Where did she sleep?
Certainly not at the condo.
When the cops got there, they found a life interrupted.
A bag of groceries purchased Monday, April 22nd, remained untouched.
The crust for the pizza the kid said she'd promised them that night was sitting on the counter.
Her clothes, makeup, passport, were all there, untouched.
So there was all these little things.
And that's what makes a circumstantial case by itself.
That doesn't mean anything.
When you start adding up 15, 20, 30, 50 of those inconsistencies, that's what makes the case.
And it makes it unbelievable what he's saying and believable that her life ceased on the 22nd of April.
So there was enough circumstantial evidence to implicate John Race in the disappearance of his wife.
In fact, the detectives assumed it was murder.
But you know what they say about assumptions.
Besides, one of them had been burned before in a major circumstantial no-body case.
A jury acquitted.
And when the body was found, well, it was too late.
Double jeopardy applied.
The killer walked.
So this time around, the detectives decided to keep their heads down and go on looking for Anne Race.
Must have driven you crazy wondering where that body was.
Oh, yeah.
We did a lot of searches and really didn't have any idea as to which way to go or where to really start looking.
And Sister Amy, meanwhile, fumed, convinced John was getting away with murder.
He'd always say, I didn't do anything wrong.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I would say, where is she?
He says I don't know.
And all the while were in their hillside suburb in the months and then years after Anne vanished.
An elephant grew in the family room, about which silence.
Glenn's older sister Joanne harbored dark thoughts about what her father might have done.
His younger sister Caitlin embraced her father's story as unassailable truth.
And Glenn?
Well, Glenn had to live as did they all.
And life with father was not bad at all.
He was a very devoted father.
A good father.
Very good father.
He showed how he loved us very much.
And I think my sisters and I would all agree that he's tried very hard to support us and raise us well.
Were you proud of him?
Yes.
Did you love him?
Yes.
Once, said Glenn, he asked his father, did you do it?
Did you kill her?
He said, no, no, I didn't do it.
He got really sad, as if disappointed, like I would even ask.
So Glenn didn't ask again.
As for the detectives, time was an enemy.
First, Salerno retired in 1993.
And for seven years, Danoff kept piling up material.
But there never seemed to be enough to make his case.
And then in 2001, he retired too, reports unwritten, though it never ever stopped bothering him.
I stayed with it up to 2005, and then I was out of the loop.
And then, under continued almost daily pressure from Aunt Sister Amy Ryan and her husband Jerry, the Sheriff's Department officially reassigned the case to Detective Dee Scott, 15 years, with homicide.
This was her first cold case.
And I was kind of familiar with the case only because when you work homicide you kind of hear some of the cases that are going on.
She inherited a five-drawer file cabinet of impressive notes dating back 14 years.
A standard case would be one folder.
In this particular case, I had a file cabinet that had five drawers worth of material that had to be reviewed.
It took Detective Scott nearly eight months to decipher it all.
But by April 2006, 15 years after Ann's disappearance, all that old material seemed finally to come together.
It was very obvious to me that John Race was the primary suspect.
There was enough evidence.
Detective Scott's massive report went to a grand jury.
The verdict?
An indictment against John Race.
Now, would the truth finally be known?
Glen Race approached the trial of his father, John, in the grip of unruly emotions.
You already lost one parent.
Now the possibility was you were going to lose another one.
Yeah.
The only other one you had, a man you loved.
Yes.
He'd grown up by now, was on his own a married man.
But still the very idea that his father may have killed his mother all those years ago and then lied with every breath since was almost too much for Glen Race to bear.
Well, that's why I wanted to go to the trial and see.
Are they spewing lies or are they making things up, falsely accusing him?
But who was he to believe?
His two sisters, with whom he was very close, had come sorrowfully to opposing opinions.
The elder Joanne believed their father was guilty.
The younger, Caitlin, was convinced of his innocence.
So, was his father the enemy?
Or was the DA?
In a circumstantial case like this, if a jury looks at what's possible, you're going to lose.
If they look at what's reasonable, you're going to win.
The prosecution team, John Lewin and Bess Silverman, went in confident.
The fact that so much time had passed made our case so much more powerful.
Absolutely.
No question.
Time is on our side.
In a case like this, people don't go on 16-year vacations.
But juries can be unpredictable.
And after all, there was no body, nor even physical proof that a murder had occurred.
And without that proof, argued John's defense attorney, Phil Israels, There was no case.
It's very easy to make a person look like he's not telling the truth, especially when you're talking about statements that were made 16 years ago.
The defense believed, even though the case was very old and even though John had cooperated and told the police everything he knew, there was a rush to judgment.
During that 16 years, John was always a suspect.
And yet, John stayed in the area.
He raised a family.
He did not leave.
No, he did not leave.
He was a model dad.
But was he also a homicidal husband?
The evidence will demonstrate beyond any reasonable doubt that Anne Race is dead.
She was murdered by that man more than 16 years ago.
The prosecution called on 42 witnesses over 20 days, witnesses who knew Anne Race and had nurtured their suspicions about her husband for all those years.
She felt that she was being controlled by her husband, that she was being forced to do things she did not want to do.
She said in the last six months that he made her have sex every night.
She said that her husband, that she was afraid her husband was going to kill her.
Her pastor remembered he warned the couple not to meet alone.
Because sometimes things happen in the heat of the moment.
But Ann wasn't alone when she dropped by with the children the afternoon of April 22, 1991.
That's the day Glenn looked out the peephole and saw his parents talking.
The same moment one of the neighbors claimed to have witnessed from across the street.
When she left, she said she had to go because she had to go get the kids something to eat.
Now on a scale of 1 to 100.
How sure are you that Ann told you that she had to leave to go get the kids something to eat?
400.
That same neighbor said he was sure he saw John following Ann a few minutes later.
Did you ever see Ann race drive back?
No, I never did.
Anne was on her way to McDonald's when she was last seen alive by that neighbor.
And John followed her, said the prosecution, and killed her.
And then, in the ensuing days, hid her body so well it has never been found.
To which the defense simply responded, Where's the proof?
They're saying that he did all these things, that he followed her, murdered her, disposed of the body, did all of these things and nobody saw anything.
I mean, it's ludicrous.
Had John ever been violent, they asked?
He had not been abusive.
I had not witnessed any abuse.
If she had said to you John had said he was going to follow her and kill her, you would remember that.
Is that correct?
I don't remember that.
The defense challenged those famous detectives when they came to the stand.
In all of these searches that you conducted did you find any physical evidence at all that tied John Ray's to any sort of crime here?
No.
Had detectives been too quick to suspect homicide, suspect John?
You would agree, would you not, that the fact that the call actually came from the airport was potentially at least corroborative information that Ann had gone on a trip?
Potentially.
All old evidence long argued, much of it damning, but all of it circumstantial.
All questions that could sway a child's opinion one way or the other over the years, but that, as the Ray siblings were about to learn in painful detail, was simply not the whole story.
Their mother had a secret, and it was about to be revealed in embarrassing detail.
Did anyone really know Anne?
You were aware that she had a boyfriend, a lover?
No.
So you really didn't know whether or not there was a sexual relationship.
She never shared that with you?
No, I didn't ask.
I think that it's a horrible thing to have an adulterous affair.
However, I do not think it's worthy to be murdered over, if that was the case.
It was the secret of the heart of Anne Race's disappearance.
All those years, her friends had assumed it was really more friendship than a full-blown affair.
People call Robert Russell.
But now Anne's children could see the object of their mother's affection in court.
She'd been cheating on their father with a man named Bob Russell, whom the prosecution called as a way of showing that Anne had plans.
She would not simply have gone away.
Bob read the last letter she wrote to him, the day she disappeared.
At this point, I feel I can say to you, I'm exclusively yours.
I will never have sex with John again.
Bob never heard from Anne again.
Of course, the children didn't either.
But now in court, all three of them would have to choose between loyalty to their father, memory of their mother.
We went round and round on the issue of subjecting the kids to anything more in terms of the harm that they had already endured.
It couldn't be avoided.
They would take the stand.
But could they agree?
After all these years do you still love your mother?
Yes.
And even after everything do you still love your father?
Yes.
And do you feel devoted to your father?
Yes.
Joanne was the prosecution's star witness, or so they hoped.
She was the eldest.
She had the clearest recollection.
Her discomfort was obvious.
But she told her secrets.
How she knew, for example, her mother would leave her father a year before it happened, how careful and quiet the planning had been.
She did not want me to tell my dad because he might do something.
And then, on that fateful Monday afternoon, she said her mother went to buy food at McDonald's.
And she waited and waited for her mother's return.
And instead, it was her father who came back with stone-cold french fries for the children.
Did your mother ever come back for you?
No.
Did you ever ask your father at that point in time, you know, where's mom?
Yes.
And what was the response?
She went away to think.
But Joanne was, remember, 14 years old.
She knew her mother.
And she was no dummy.
My question is, did you believe your father?
Did your mom go on a trip?
No.
In the years since, she said, her father accused Anne of abandoning Joanne and her siblings.
And the others may have believed him, but not Joanne.
Can you imagine your mother, knowing her as you did, taking any sum of money to abandon her family?
No.
And yet, saying these things here in this silent courtroom, said Joanne, was very hard.
Do you remember what your father said about your mother?
He had called her a bitch and a whore.
And then it was Glenn's turn.
With whom would he stand?
The father he loved?
Or the sister he also loved?
Are you going to be thinking with your answers how they may or may not affect your dad in terms of this case?
Yes.
Glenn, it appeared, had picked to side his father's.
Do you believe that you and your sisters were the center of her life?
No.
Do you think your mom is alive?
I think it's possible.
I can't say anything 100% because I do not know for certainty one way if she is dead.
Is it fair to say that for the last 16 years you've become much closer to your father Yes.
This was the saddest part in the whole case to me.
Glenn decided that he was willing to trash his mother if it was gonna help his father.
Well, it turned out there was more to it than that.
In the days before the trial, Glenn read the letters Anne had written all those years ago to that man, to her boyfriend Bob.
I've been shown things that made me think that it might not just be to put other ideas out there that I didn't know about before.
The letters there were 109 of them were intense and sexually explicit and John Race's lawyers decided Glenn should see them before the trial.
Made me think, wow, maybe she didn't have us kids first if she's saying all this stuff.
Glenn is a born-again Christian.
He was struggling now.
It's like, wow, she was putting her love affair with this guy before us.
As you sit here today, knowing everything that you know and knowing your father, do you believe your father killed your mother?
And then came the youngest, Caitlin Race.
She had very few memories of her mother.
I remember being with her when she did errands.
I remember holding on to her leg.
It was obvious that Caitlin supported her father's version of events, yet was forced to reveal under cross-examination that her father had in some way paid for it.
He gave me a check last month.
He compensated me because I quit my job so I could be here.
What you're basically saying is your dad's paying you to come to court.
Yes.
But, like her brother, Glenn Caitlin Ray's had another reason for having doubts about her father's guilt.
I've read letters that my mom's written to Bob Russell.
And now, it was, she said, complicated.
As you sit here today, is it your testimony that you believe that, based on the relationship that you had with your mother, that she voluntarily abandoned you?
To this day, I don't know.
And with the testimony completed, the defense rested, having presented not one word from John Race, who remained through the entire trial silent.
Tell him, tell him that this 16-year charade is over.
It ends here.
Anne Race was murdered by the defendant, her husband, on April 22nd of 1991.
So now we have a case in which there is no body, no crime scene, no murder weapon, nobody saw anything.
Does that make sense to you?
Why is that?
The most reasonable explanation is that it didn't happen.
Would the jury agree?
The defendant's fate now rested with 12 strangers.
Well, quietly and alone, a loving son was thinking about judgment too.
By the time his father's long trial wound to its close and a jury took the case away to consider, Glen Race had begun to feel the ground shift beneath his feet.
Those twelve strangers would have their way, of course, but Glen was a jury of one.
My dad and the prosecution put everything on the table so that I could finally see both sides of the story.
See who was right.
Yeah.
So I had all the pieces to work with finally.
And now he would deliberate and wait, just like everybody, for the jurors, four of whom sat down with Dateline.
How could this possibly be that someone could possibly be guilty of killing someone and there is no body?
It was, as they all realized too well, a very strange case which began with an open question.
Was Anne Race alive or dead?
There was no equivocation.
I think that every single juror believed that she died.
That was the easy part.
The question answered.
They went slogging through the long and entirely circumstantial case and it wasn't easy.
Too many witnesses, too much evidence.
But they took the final vote, and...
The actual vote was unanimous.
The evidence was enough to convince the jurors it was murder in the first degree.
But Glenn?
Glenn's jury of one was still out.
For those 16 years, I felt he was innocent.
It was hard to hear and hard to see him walking out of that courtroom.
Weeks later, at his father's sentencing, Glenn was still undecided.
His father listened to Ann's family finally have their say in court.
For 16 years, John was free.
Well, his free days are over.
I wish we could add those 16 years to his sentence.
Glenn continued to waver as an angry prosecutor goaded his father into breaking his silence.
Be a man and stand up and admit what I've done.
Your Honor, I did not kill my wife.
When I parked the car, when... It was his own attorney who cut him off at mid-sentence.
What he was about to say, we'll never know.
You are a murderer.
How tragic.
The defendant is sentenced to stay in prison for the term prescribed by law, which in this case is 25 years to life.
Anne's children struggled with the truth, each in his or her own way.
Caitlin in her father's corner Joanne, the sad finality of bitter victory and Glenn needing something to break the deadlock in his heart.
Part of me really would love for there to be some golden bullet out there that shows that he didn't do it somehow.
Perhaps there was.
Glenn, an engineer and self-styled numbers man, created one.
A chart weighing the odds.
Could his father really be innocent?
That, Glenn decided, was a long shot.
What are the chances?
It's not like it's 100 to 1 anymore.
It's more like a million to 1.
And it's not reasonable.
If you were on that jury, what would you have done?
I would have said guilty.
And so Glenn went to see his father in jail to tell him with certainty the one thing he could not before.
And I feel he is guilty.
Did you look at him when you said that?
Yes.
How did he react?
He was upset and sad, kind of like how I asked him point blank years earlier if he killed my mom.
The same kind of just upset.
And so he left, the last question rattling around unanswered in his head.
Where was Anne?
My dad knows where she is, and it's up to him to share, you know, where her body is.
Tell us that to put this whole murder finally to rest.
Not his to know yet.
Maybe not ever.
Weird thing, actually, I had a dream about her and that she came back.
But I remember asking her, like, why did you go?
And she just said, oh, I was scared to come back home.
It was just a dream, but it's funny, I think something in me definitely misses her a lot.
