(Now seven years since the disappearance of my daughter Leah Freeman, I still have no answers as to exactly who killed her, or how or why. So many unanswered questions. As her mother, I have always fantasized how great it would be to be able to reach her just one more time. To leave no doubt how much I truly love her.)

Dear Leah,

Wow! What a crazy seven years! Still no justice for you, and I am so sorry for that. But Angel, I do have some positive good things to tell you. Like it's amazing how many people reached out to me when you were missing. So many did searches for you, prayers beyond imagination, flowers, food, gifts; vigils were held. A bench was dedicated in your name. There was a scholarship in your name for seven years; a very nice two-page spread in the yearbook, which was also dedicated to you. There was actually a LeahFreeman.com until recently. Your memorial was beautiful. Lots and lots of people.

Your sister is doing well. She has a husband, Victor, who adores her and is very good to her. Her son, Alton, (5) who just the other day had on his “Justice for Leah” shirt, said, “This is your daughter Granny. She died. I sorry, but I love her.” Her daughter, Leigha (almost 2), has the basset hound eyes, feels the silky on a blanket, and sucks her thumb. (Just like someone else I know!) They are adorable little kids and I wish you could be here to be their “Aunt Leah.”

Denise and I are closer than ever. She has truly been my rock. And she is an excellent mother. I am so proud of her. You couldn't obviously be here for her wedding - but she refused to even think about anyone else being her maid of honor. No one could ever fill those shoes! So there was an empty chair with a pink rose on it for you, who should very much have been there. She misses you like crazy, too!

Your grandparents all have passed away since you. Old age was a big part in their deaths, but I believe all of them also had broken hearts from the loss of you.

While you are truly missed by many, I'm sure no one misses you like I do. So many nights I would sit upstairs at Grandma and Grandpa's house in the bedroom window, staring out at the road hoping and praying you would come walking down Knott Street. (I think it was years before I quit hoping for that to happen - called denial! I still don't want to believe that you are gone.)

Christmas is always hard for me. I go to decorate the house (outside lights) and every time, I remember your last Christmas, when you and Melissa hung the outside lights - nice! I had to redo the whole thing! I laugh about it now, and hold that memory so close to my heart.

The hardest day of the year (except your birthday) is almost here: June 28. I know that it's best for me to try not to reflect much on that day, but it's one I just can't help. It's very painful - like someone is ripping my heart right out of my chest.

I wonder what you would have grown up to be? A PE teacher? Hairdresser? Or maybe even a mother? You had so much going for you. Whatever direction you might have chosen, I know you would have been successful at it.

I believe that those involved in your murder have gone on with their lives and are maybe even having children of their own. That makes me sad for you, because you certainly never got the chance.

Oh Sweet Leah, what I wouldn't do to be able to go back seven years. You would never get out of my sight. Instead, I have your pictures everywhere, your urn is (always) in my room, and always angels in about every corner of the house to remind me always of you.

I miss you my precious baby. I love you. I love you. I love you. Please, please, please KNOW THAT!

Love you forever,

Mom