“When you came at me with that knife, that was the thing that changed me,” he said. “I know you thought it was because you nicked my liver and I got sepsis. But it was the realization I’d turned into my father. That was the hardest truth I ever faced.”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. We were off the highway now, on a scenic country road, passing elegant nineteenth-century houses with gingerbread gables and turrets. It was tough to make out numbers and signs in the dark.

“I need to slow down,” he said. “I remember the house was completely hidden from the road. It’s on a large patch of land with a creek at the back. The house was a bungalow with a large addition—a sidesplit, I guess. There’s a screened-in porch at the back.”

“Great recall, but you said it’s completely hidden from the road. Do you remember any signs?”

“There was one for a restaurant,” he said. “A big white board. There was a house across the road, on a much higher parcel of land. They had a couple of barky dogs and an electric fence.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

We kept driving, Theo on our tail. We passed a house on the right that was elevated high above the road.

“Stop,” I said. “I didn’t see the driveway, but this could be the right area.”

We drove into a turnoff on the right. Theo followed. We all got out of our cars. The house on the hill had its lights blazing. A pair of huskies watched us from a broad window. One of them yowled, and the other joined in.

“That’s the house,” my father said, pointing to the opposite side of the road.

When I looked carefully, I could make out the openings for a semicircular driveway in between the thick tree line.

“You’re the only one who’s been to the house,” Theo said to my father. “How should we do this?”

“The back porch would be the easiest way to get inside,” my father said.

“I’ll head back there,” Theo said. “I’ll signal you if I need a distraction at the front.”

“The house has a strange layout,” my father answered. “The staircase up is hidden. The door to the cellar’s in an odd place. I need to go in myself.”

“Then we’ll go in, and Deirdre can drive up if we need a distraction,” Theo said.

“This seems like a bad time to tell you I don’t know how to drive,” I admitted.

There was a moment of silence for their dead plan.

“I’ll circle back to the porch with my father,” I said. “I’ll text you if we need a distraction at the front, okay?”

Theo nodded.