You feel it in your chest before you even finish the first paragraph. Another child gone. This time it is Layla Jeffery, 13 years old, sweet and shy by every account, yet full of that spark her family called sassy. She loved fashion, beauty, bedazzling things, walking around town, sitting up in trees with a book. Normal kid things. The kind of life that should still be unfolding, not ending in bushland outside a remote Victorian town.