At the same time, a group of rabid fans who lived nearby and had an SUV with chains and four-wheel drive had decided to drive out and see for themselves. Believing it might be a secret fan cosplay event, they had dressed for the part.

As for Ajay, he had borrowed his neighbor’s snowmobile and loaded it into his dad’s pickup, switching to it when the snow got too heavy. After at first dismissing Bridget’s emails, he had seen a screen capture of her desperate plea on Reddit and realized she was telling the truth.

Now Bob said, “At the time, I honestly thought Bridget should prioritize saving the manuscript. I didn’t think I was going to make it. But thankfully, she had more faith than I did.” They exchanged a grin.

Bridget saw a healthy Bob, one who finally no longer needed a cane. In her mind’s eye, though, she saw the cops trying to load a nearly comatose Bob into the back of their SUV, desperate to get him to the hospital.

The physical therapists had credited Bob’s recovery after surgery to set the bone to the fact that he was in pretty good shape from Joanne and Derrick’s enforced diet and exercise routine. After he was discharged, he’d even bought a treadmill desk for his home office.

Bridget had given police the tracker information for Joanne’s car. After being pulled over on her way to the airport, she had been arrested. Her trial was still months off. Derrick had accepted a plea deal that avoided jail time in return for his cooperation. He was now attending an alternative high school, in court-ordered therapy, and living with his dad. He was still allowed to LARP.

Bridget chose the next questioner, a wide-eyed girl of about twelve. Even though the girl had dark hair, there was something about her that reminded Bridget of herself at that age.

“My question is for Mr. Haldon. Where’s your scarf?”

Bridget caught her breath.

Bob put his fingertips to his bare neck. “I used to think I needed to wear the scarf to remind me of the person who it originally belonged to. But then I realized she’s always with me.” His smile was tinged with sadness. “And there’s a freedom in not always wearing the same thing. Not always writing the same thing.”

He smiled and pointed at a woman in her fifties dressed in a sundress.

“What’s next for you two?”