I found Marjorie’s stuffed elephant lying in the driveway. Lunch was still on the table, the TV was on. There wasn’t any blood anywhere, so I have to assume they got out of the house alive.
The babysitter had the emergency contacts, so she might have gone to my parents’ place, or Jennifer’s. Or she might have gone to her own parents’ house: it’s only three blocks away, they could have made a run for it. I’ll try there first. If there’s no one there, I’ll try Jen’s.
Marjorie must be so sad without her elephant. She loves that thing.
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