lips pursed, annie nods, although she feels an anger underneath her skin at the thought of an eleven year old childâs parents losing patience with them for something such as miranda is describing. âcould you give any examples of what she would say? after all, what some might consider strange is normal for others,â she tries to prompt, wanting to gain as much insight about the other missing girl and her family as possible. the stuffed animal is just another reminder of how young mercy was when she went missing, and the blondeâs face softens as she sees how tightly miranda holds the object that had meant so much to her daughter. annie takes it gently, and looks at miranda before offering a quiet, âthank you.â she knew how difficult it could be to allow others access to the few things you had left of a deceased loved one, especially when that individual was a stranger. taking a breath, annie closes her eyes, fingers running absentmindedly over the soft fabric, before she once more returns her gaze to miranda. âwas there a significance to the month of june? a birthday?â she asks, trying to make sense of the message coming through. âi can see a cake. itâs a frog, a bit like the toy, actually.â
âI donât remember, it was so long ago,â it was impossible to tell if it was true or not but there was something about Victoria that she didnât want to speak on. âVictoria was just a wild child. We werenât ready when the Van Leers came to town and she wasnât ready when they wanted to leave,â she presses her lips together into a fond and wistful smile as if reminiscing on the memory of the girls. As Annie holds the toy, she maintains her attention, the smile still present, âHer birthday, June 17th,â a moment, âShe never had a frog cake. Not here,â thereâs a strange look somewhere between disbelief and deep thought. âI want to know where my daughter went. I need to know that sheâs not in pain.âÂ