For many crime junkies, when we hear the name Kaylee Anthony, there's a specific image that comes to mind.

A two-year-old girl is sitting on a couch, her tiny hand pressed against her cheek,

wide eyes gazing off into the distance, brown hair falling softly across her forehead.

The softness of her features makes her look

almost like a cherub from a Renaissance painting. There's a stillness to her. The kind children

sometimes have when they don't yet know how dangerous the world can be. That image was splashed

across tabloids, looped on national media.

A missing child in central Florida became a national obsession as families across the country held their breath, hoping for good news.

And, naturally, the focus turned to Casey.

Imagine being this child's mother.

Your two-year-old is gone.

No one knows where she is. Every minute that

passes feels unbearable. We have a collective understanding of what that looks like. Frantic

phone calls, tearful pleas on television, sleepless nights, and desperation etched across a

parent's face.

When a child is missing, we expect urgency.

We expect visible fear.

We expect a mother who will stop at nothing to bring her child home.

But that wasn't the picture emerging in this case.

Instead of press conferences begging for Kaylee's safe return,

Kaylee's mother, Casey Anthony, quickly became the center of suspicion.

Reports surfaced that she had lied to police, that Kaylee had been missing for a month before authorities were notified, that while her parents begged to see their granddaughter,

...