My mother answers, still watching Jake. “October. So you own a shirt just like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Nick asks. “What does the shirt have to do with anything?”

“Jake, is it possible that this is your shirt?” My mother taps the image on her phone with one blunt fingernail.

“No, mine’s in the laundry. Hang on.”

Jake pushes his chair back and crosses the kitchen into the tiny utility room, where I can hear him rummage around for a few seconds.

“Here.” He returns to the table and hands my mother a familiar navy blue shirt. “This one’s mine.”

My mother lays it flat on the table and stares at it for a few seconds, comparing it to the image on her phone. “Okay, thank you,” she says at last.

“What does the shirt have to do with anything?” Nick repeats.

“It’s just another bit of evidence we’re trying to identify.” She stands and puts one hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Thank you very much for your help.”

She and Officer Green head toward the hallway, and I race silently back into the shadows, planning to slip into Jake’s room. But then Emily’s door opens, casting a rectangle of light on the hallway carpet, and I duck through the open bathroom door instead.

“What’s going on?” Emily pulls her headphones off, obviously surprised to see police in her home.

“Nothing, honey,” Nick Mercer says from well outside my field of vision. “Officer Bergen and Officer Green were just leaving.”

Detective Bergen, I mentally correct him, because I know my mother won’t.

Footsteps continue across the hall into the living room, and for just a second, I think I’ve gotten away with it. Then Emily steps into the bathroom and flips the wall switch.

Light floods the small room, and she screams, shocked to find me hiding there.

I flinch as footsteps pound down the hallway toward us. “What’s wrong?” Mr. Mercer demands.

Emily blinks at me. I shake my head, silently begging her to claim she saw a spider or something. But then her father appears in the doorway.

“Beckett Bergen.” He steps back and waves me into the hall with one hand.

My mother’s eyes fall closed for a second, and she exhales slowly.

“Did she come with you?” Jake’s dad demands, and my mom shakes her head. So he turns to his son. “Jake, what—?”

“It isn’t his fault, Mr. Mercer. I just … I wanted to tell him that my mom would be—”

“Beckett!” My mother scowls at me, mortified.

“Young lady, you do not have permission to be in this house!” Grace snaps, and all eyes turn her way.

“I know Jake’s grounded, but—”

“He isn’t grounded.” Grace looks puzzled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”