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�Hey!� she exclaimed so suddenly that Linda and Richard jumped. �That ring you�re wearing�-she pointed at Linda-�I-I think I remember that. By any chance,� she continued, her voice changing slightly and a thoughtful look spreading across her face, �did I used to wear that when I was little?�
Linda lifted up her right hand, examining the large ring on her ring finger. Its silver band glinted; its deep black onyx stone caught the light. It hit Linda all of a sudden. �That�s right,� Linda said, �You did!�
�Yeah!� Laura said, the memories flooding back to her suddenly, as though someone had blasted a hole in the dam. �I remember I asked to wear it for school picture day in first grade so I�d look like a princess. A-and you didn�t want me to because you said I�d lose it.�
Linda picked up the story. �But then you started crying and said��
The three of them together: �Mommy, princesses don�t lose things!�
They started laughing. Laura�s memory wasn�t gone; it had just gotten buried deep in her mind. They continued to reminisce about other significant aspects of Laura�s childhood- her pink bike, her first pet fish, the time she left her doll in the car and made her father go out in the middle of a thunderstorm to get it so she wouldn�t be scared, the time when one of her classmates made her believe that she was going to die from a mosquito bite�they went on and on, each memory dredging up many more. Most importantly, Laura was back. She remembered, her parents, her childhood, and her life. Still, one question remained in Linda and Richard�s minds.
�What are you doing in Hawaii?�
�I have no idea,� Laura said. �I guess I just woke up here one morning and thought that was the way it always was; the way it was supposed to be.�
They had so many questions, all with no answers. Why was Laura there? How did she get there? Then there were the postcards. How had they found their way into the mailbox�? None of that mattered to Linda and Richard, though. All that they cared about was that they had their daughter back.
The morning of the day they were set to return home, Linda remembered Anne Cook. After filling Laura in about her and the postcards (�I never wrote those,� Laura had said), they proceeded to her house.
Linda knocked on the door. A short blonde woman answered.
�Can I help you?� she asked. Linda recognized her voice.
�Hi, I�m Linda Davis. I called you about my daughter a few weeks ago. I just wanted to thank you for helping us find her.�
�I�m sorry?� she said. �I don�t remember anyone named Linda Davis calling me. Are you sure you�ve got the right house?�
�Aren�t you Anne Cook?�
�Yes.�
�Well, I called you about two weeks ago. I told you my daughter Laura was missing and I gave you a description of her. You told me you saw her at the diner.� Linda paused when she saw the suspicious look on Anne�s face. �You don�t remember that?�
�No,� Anne said, �I don�t.�
Linda was amazed. �You gave me your address, and the address of the diner. See? I wrote it down.� Linda fished in her purse for the paper. It wasn�t there. Anne raised her eyebrows at Linda.
�I�m sorry, I have to go now,� Anne said, and shut the door.
�Are you sure that was the right person?� Richard asked.
�Yes! I remembered her voice,� Linda said, exasperated. �I wanted to show her the paper, but it was gone, so I-� Linda stopped as she realized that she hadn�t seen the postcards in her purse, either, and she knew she hadn�t taken them out. She looked again, emptying her purse entirely this time, sorting through everything. There was no sign of them. Both postcards were gone.
