The day turned out to be absolutely wonderful. Henry and his grandfather seemed more like brothers, and Bay liked their calm sense of themselves. Sydney liked it too, Bay could tell. Old Mr. Hopkins, upon first seeing Sydney, asked her when her birthday was. When he discovered that she was exactly five months and fifteen days older than Henry, he laughed and clapped his grandson on his back and said, “Oh, well, that’s all right, then.”

The more Bay saw and the more she knew of Henry and his grandfather, the more she was certain. This was the place. This was where her mother belonged.

But Sydney didn’t know it.

Her mother, she realized, had always had a problem knowing where she went.

Lucky for her, that was Bay’s specialty.

As Sydney carried Bay up the front steps late that evening, she felt good.

While Lester and Bay manned the electric ice-cream maker by the chestnut tree in the front yard that afternoon, Sydney and Henry had walked around the field and talked, mostly of old things, elementary school and former teachers.

Henry drove them home after dark and Bay fell asleep in the back. When Henry pulled in front of the house, he cut the engine and they talked some more. About new things this time, where they wanted to go with their lives, what they thought the future might be like. Sydney didn’t tell Henry anything about the stealing she’d done, or about David. It was almost as if they didn’t exist. She liked that feeling. Denial was a luxury, especially with that memory of David floating around, his cloying cologne not letting her forget. But she could forget with Henry.

She talked herself hoarse, sitting there in his truck.

Before she knew it, it was midnight.

She’d just entered the house, Bay in her arms, when Claire appeared in her nightgown. “Where have you been?”

“We met Henry Hopkins at the grocery store. He invited us to his place for banana splits,” Sydney said. She took a good look at Claire, and her heart suddenly lurched in fright. Claire’s face was pinched and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her as if she had terrible news. Oh, God. It was David. David had found them. She took a deep breath, trying to smell him. “Why? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Claire wrung her hands for a moment, then she turned and headed to the kitchen. “You just should have called me to let me know.”

Sydney followed, clutching Bay to her now. By the time she caught up with her, Claire had already walked through the kitchen and was in the sunroom, putting on her gardening clogs. “That’s all?” Sydney said breathlessly. “That’s it?”

“I was worried. I thought…”

“What? What did you think happened?” Sydney asked, scared because she’d never seen Claire like this. It had to be something horrible.