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Dear Harmony,

   Waffles. You loved waffles. You'd get up earlier than everyone else just to sneak downstairs and make yourself waffles. Big, fluffy Belgians piled with fruit and whipped cream with a kiss of powdered sugar.

   That was your favorite breakfast.

   This morning, your mother brought waffles up to your room. I have been camping out there, rummaging through your things. Trying to find clues, just like I said I would. There's a lot of work but I will not give up. I refuse to.

   I will find you, Harmony.

   Your family is extremely supportive of my investigations. More than ever, their home is like a second home to me. Your mom gave me an entire plateful of waffles, made just the way you used to make them. She smiled sadly and I worried I would choke on the food. But I didn't. I was fine. Fueled, determined to continue the search. You really were keen on covering your tracks, weren't you?

   Perhaps you never left any to begin with, but I just can't bring myself to believe that someone can be fine and then disappear without any underlying precursor.