Maya was surrounded by kids, snacks pressed into her hands from every direction.
Her cheeks flushed pink. She was beaming.
"Maya, come to Mommy. It's warm inside."
She waved her little hand. "No! Maya wants to play hide-and-seek with the big brothers and sisters."
She'd always been fragile. Afraid she'd trip and hurt herself, I started to refuse.
Austin's oldest sister, Leah, tugged my arm. "Zoey, you baby her too much. City kids are always getting sick because they never play outside."
His second sister, Jessica, chimed in. "Don't worry. They're all family. No one would dare bully Maya."
His youngest sister, Daisy, pointed at a boy about Maya's age. "Tommy, you're the big brother—take good care of little sister Maya."
The boy grabbed my daughter's hand and ran off.
I'd been an only child my whole life. I'd never known this—siblings looking out for each other, cousins playing together.
Seeing Maya so happy, I let her go.
By lunchtime, all the other kids had come back.
Only my daughter was missing. Her phone watch showed no location.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I tore through the entire village with my husband's family.