About the Author
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Teddy stood up. He reached for more petals and then stopped. Something out of the corner of his eye had distracted him. Me.He turned and pointed a chubby arm toward my window as he gasped:“Fishy!”I watched him bounce up and down, clearly ecstatic that he’d spotted the Goldfish Boy all on his own. He looked around for someone to tell.“Fishy, Casey! Look! Fishy! Granda!”But nobody came.I turned away from the window and glanced at the time in the corner of the computer screen.12:55 p.m.That time was important.I don’t know why it stuck in my mind but it did, even without writing it down.At some point after 12:55 p.m. on that bright, scorching day, Teddy Dawson went missing.