Except judging by the look she had given him yesterday when she saw what was inside the box, she didn’t see it the same way. It was clear he had made some awful mistake.

He tried to pay attention to Mr. Manning as class dragged by. When it finally ended, they walked in silence to what Ajay now thought of as “their” table. He opened his backpack and handed her a tiffin box.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He braced himself.

“I got a very strange message from Bob yesterday. I don’t know what to think.” She handed over her phone.

Relief rolled over him. He felt nearly reverent as he regarded it. “Wow! So this is from the great man himself?”

“Yes, but read it and tell me what you think.”

Ajay read the message once, quickly. Then he scrolled back up to the top and read it over again, more slowly. Finally he looked at Bridget.

His mouth twisted. “Doesn’t he know that your mom is, um, dead?”

“He has to. We’ve talked about it. But that’s not even the weirdest thing. Neither of those names are actually my parents’.”

Ajay jerked his head back. “They aren’t named Anna and Graham?”

“Vivian and James.”

He blinked. “That’s a lot different.”

“And all those questions he asks about the series. I don’t know any of the answers. I don’t even understand most of them.”

Trying to think of another explanation, he asked, “Does he have another researcher he got you mixed up with?” Although who could mix Bridget up with anyone?

“I’m the only one.” Taking the phone back, she looked at his words again. “And if you take everything together, it just plain doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even really sound like Bob.”

Ajay tried to put it delicately. “Do you think he could have had a little too much holiday cheer?”

She wrinkled her nose. “In interviews, he always says that he doesn’t drink.”

Ajay made a humming noise. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have started.” Then he said carefully, “Do you think maybe he’s having some medical problem? I mean, after all, he’s kind of a rotund guy.” If his sister were here, she would know exactly what high-risk categories Bob fell into. Maybe he’d had a stroke or was getting Alzheimer’s. Because something had definitely scrambled Bob’s wires.

“I’ve got his phone number.” Taking the phone back, Bridget scrolled around until she found it. Her finger hovered over the button. “I’m going to call him.”

Ajay watched her face as she listened to the ringing. When it stopped, he faintly heard a man’s voice. A recording.

“Bob,” she said slowly, “this is Bridget. Can you call me? I just have a question about your email.” After reciting her phone number, she pressed the button to end the call.