By Maria V. Gallagher
When summer rolls around, I am reminded of a weekend a number of years ago, when I had difficulty reaching my then seven-year-old daughter on the phone at her father’s apartment. It seemed they had both disappeared.
By Maria V. Gallagher
When summer rolls around, I am reminded of a weekend a number of years ago, when I had difficulty reaching my then seven-year-old daughter on the phone at her father’s apartment. It seemed they had both disappeared.
