"Show me the mother, and I'll show you the child." she said and smiled. Then she kissed my forehead... and walked away. When I woke up, I knew it right away. Amanda, my sweet, young daughter, who had come in the bar for me... was gone. She died for me. And I can't help but feel guilty. When Michael's head fell on my chest, crying, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. I just dwelled upon my dream. She couldn't have left. But she did. She was always so strong and beautiful. So where's my precious, strong, beautiful baby girl? Why wasn't I holding her in my arms?