Seaside was a generic beach town. Interchangeable with all of the other seasonal beach towns in the northeast.

It was the kind of town that no one should have ever really heard of.

But fourteen years ago, a reporter at The Wall Street Journal was either late on deadline or had an ironic sense of humor, because they published an article claiming Seaside was the Hamptons for the new generation.

Now my little hometown is famous.

For homemade fudge, Saturday night fireworks, sprawling summer estates, boardwalk carnivals, beach volleyball tournaments, the world's best saltwater taffy, and the abduction of Ivy Anderson-Wright.

It was almost eleven years ago during the whirlwind last weekend of the summer season. The nanny was home sick, the parents had just rather publicly filed for divorce, and the older brother took his little sister to the final game of the annual Labor Day Beach Volleyball Tournament.

At 6:15 pm, eight-year-old Ivy Anderson-Wright ran down to the water and collect seashells. At 6:47 pm, there was no sign of her.

Three separate ransom demands came and three times her family paid, but they never found her. Not her and not her body.

That's how she went missing.

This is what happened when she came back.

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Thank you all for reading. This is just the set up, but hopefully it gives you a taste of Emma's voice.