72.
I was engrossed in a cookbook, marking recipes I wanted to try, when I realized I hadn't heard my daughter's voice in a while. I looked up and scanned the room--we'd come to the library so she could read books and play in the children's area, and she'd been happily playing next to me while I flipped the pages of cookbooks. She wasn't by the big dollhouse, or the kitchen set, or the farm stand toy. She wasn't in the aisles of books in front of or behind me. I left my cookbooks, wallet, and phone and walked around the next row of aisles. "She's over here," my neighbor said, smiling, as she continued her volunteer job of re-shelving books. Jolene was sitting in a wooden fire truck toy, busily turning the wheel and chatting to the stuffed animal passengers. I instinctively put my hand over my heart and exhaled. I hadn't really been worried. After all, we were in the library in the middle of the day in a very safe town. H...