In the space between a porch light and a welcome mat, a life can simply erase itself. Rain slicks a quiet cul-de-sac as a car’s tires hiss into the distance. The last image we have of Mia Carter is from a rideshare dashcam, just after nine o’clock. Her phone is later found glowing in the gutter, its screen shattered. One set of footprints darkens the wet concrete, leading from the curb, then st...
