“You can technically go back to your house. The investigation there is finished.”

I felt a little light inside of me, but, as soon as it flickered, the look on Oliver’s face dimmed it. And then I remembered: all those people had all those hands in all my things. My underwear drawer would have been searched. Things had been seized from our house. I felt so violated, and, as much as I missed home, I knew I would feel that violation ten-fold if I were back there.

Most of all, Bill wasn’t there. How could it feel like home without Bill?

“And why doesn’t Bill want me to know?” I asked.

Oliver sighed. “He’s worried about your safety and Iris’s safety. He’s afraid that, with all these people out there believing he’s guilty, someone could come after you and Iris.”

The mere idea of someone coming after my child made a cold chill run down my spine. I was surprised that I felt relieved Bill didn’t want us to go home. For now, at Alice’s, I felt safe. I wanted to keep it that way.

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll stay put for now. We’re fine where we are.” I paused, thinking about my daughter. I didn’t want to lie to her, but sometimes protecting your children meant glossing over the truth. “Maybe don’t mention this to Iris? If she knows, it will just be this whole thing.”

“Mum’s the word,” Oliver said.

I smiled because the phrase was so cute in his British accent.

“For now, we just concentrate on getting Bill out of there and getting you all back home, together, lickety split,” Oliver said.

I was suddenly filled with purpose, like hot concrete was growing inside of me and then solidifying, making me strong. Bill would save me if I were in a situation like this. I was going to save him right back.

Alice A Beautiful System

I stole money from the offering plate once. I was eight years old. I had been chosen for a high honor that day: post-church lemonade server. My prize? Leaving church straight from communion—before the post-communion prayer, before the final hymn—to get ready. Knowing I was walking down the aisle to break out early, escape the confinement between my two brothers in the hard wooden pew, and burst out of the huge double doors into the vast, enveloping light and warmth of the spring day, was a heady type of freedom that made me feel powerful and reckless. So maybe that’s what made me so bold.

Two gleaming brass offering plates sat on the long table behind the last, empty pew, overflowing with checks, envelopes, and cash, barely contained, like the stream of water from the fountain at school. With no premeditation whatsoever, I reached my hand over and grabbed a crisp, new five-dollar bill from the top.