The first night I had trouble finding Mr. Bunny, I didn’t think much of it. Toys get misplaced all the time, nothing odd about that. My daughter loved to play hide-and-seek with Hanna, always dragging Mr. Bunny behind her. So, even if Molly was not allowed in the study, the door had been unlocked. It was easy to imagine how Mr. Bunny had come to be under Conor's desk. Preoccupied as I was with more serious problems—an unforeseen storm had hit land a few hours before I’d left work—the incident was out of my mind as soon as I closed the door behind me with Mr. Bunny safe in my hands.

In the aftermath of the storm life outside the farmhouse became a blur of blackouts, glacial wind, frozen traffic lights, and icy roads. In the following days—or was it weeks?—time seem...

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