Sadie walks obediently at my side as we head down the sidewalk. I fidget with my phone, nestled in my coat pocket, fearful the man will call again. My gaze lands on every shrub, every tree, every place someone could possibly hide. I glance over my shoulder periodically. I’ve got to stay vigilant. I wonder why he’s bothering me. What could he possibly want?

Sadie and I cross the street and head home. Snow starts to fall, and I try to concentrate on the white flakes falling through the light of the lampposts. I love snow. I love how it deadens sound and covers up all the gray. It’s the opposite of the oppressive summer sun that burns and smothers.

I stop at our mailbox before going in and grab a handful of envelopes and sales flyers and tuck the bundle under my arm.

Inside, I fill Sadie’s bowl and refresh her water. The mail lies splayed on the countertop, and I weed through it. An envelope catches my eye. The return address is marked OSSINING, NEW YORK. SING SING CORRECTIONAL FACILITY. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. The letter is addressed to Dr. Jay Bradley.

I sink into a kitchen chair and tear it open.

I’m trembling. I can’t breathe. Sadie whimpers as she nudges me with her nose. This can’t be real. It can’t be right. I drop the letter as though it’s on fire. I don’t want to touch anything that he touched. Why can’t this ever be over? How can he still, all these years later, intrude on my life?

Then it dawns on me. Jay had written to him. That can’t be. Even if he wanted to interview prisoners for his book. Why would he reach out to Keith Russell? How could he do that to me?

I pace through the house, wrapping my arms around my stomach to try to still my shaking, but I can’t.

* * *

When I couldn’t settle down, I called Corrine, and she came over.

“What’s going on, Molly?” she asks. I hadn’t told her anything on the phone, just that I needed her.

I drop the letter in front of her. She reads quickly. “Oh my God.” Her eyes meet mine. “Why would Jay want to talk to Keith Russell?” She spits out his name like it’s poison. “Couldn’t he find enough demented killers for his fucking book without talking to that asshole?”