Gloria wiggled her hand at me. “Come here, Bids?” I went closer. “Tell this gentleman everything, okay? Exactly what you told me. After the root beer? You know, and the show? I went on up to bed. Just worn out doing home repairs.” She picked at specks of yellow paint still on her hands.

“Are you his sister?”

I nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“Maisy Anna Gloria Janes,” I whispered. My middle squeezed up.

He smiled. I chewed at my lip.

“How old are you, Maisy?”

“Seven,” I said.

“I know this is upsetting, but if you can tell me as best as you remember. It sure would help. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, but it didn’t come out very loud.

“So you were the last one to see your brother last night?”

I nodded again, then shook my head. In my side eye, I saw Gloria frown because I started wrong. Stars were coming out around the man with the tie. I wanted to sit down and lie against Chicken. But I didn’t.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Yes, tell the man everything. He’s here to help, sweetheart.”

I knew this time sweetheart didn’t mean sweetheart. My mouth was full of dust. “I was just, um, watching. And then I, I fell asleep.”

“Watching what?”

“What show, Maisy?”

“I—it—”

“I remember,” Gloria said. “You told me it was outer space something or another. Jetsons or was it those blobs that change shape or—”

“Mrs. Janes? It’d be really helpful to let your daughter tell me.”

“Oh. Of course. Right.”

“Maisy?” He looked at me.

“About animals,” I said. I closed my eyes. All the right pictures were there, I just had to line them up and keep them from getting away. And not let any other ones in. None of Rowan on the deck in the rain. None of him running at the woods. None of lightning. None of Carl. Especially none of Carl. “Tigers. A whole lot of them. They were eating squirrels.”

“Oh my.” Gloria frowned harder. Maybe I’d gotten the animals wrong too.

“Or maybe possums,” I said.

“That don’t sound like a show for a child. I didn’t know.”

“Tigers and possums, hey?” the man said. “That’s quite the combination.” He smiled again and tapped his pen. “Scary.”

I looked down at my feet. “No,” I said. “Rowan was there. We had root beer. We weren’t allowed to watch another show, but we did. Gloria said that’s being crafty.” Gloria had her mouth moving when I was telling stuff. I watched her mouth real close.

“Crafty, hey? I’m sure your mom isn’t bothered by an extra show,” the man said.

“Gosh, no.” Gloria sounded like a bird feather. I smiled at her.

“What happened then, Maisy?”

“I fell asleep.”