“I don’t know. Why don’t we go look for her?” Aria said, taking his hand to lead him toward the purple van.

Aria cupped her hands to look inside. The van was cluttered, but empty of life. So she led Aston over to Mike’s tent. But it too was deserted. “When did you see her last? Did she say anything to you about where you’re supposed to be?” Aria asked, kneeling down to face him at eye level.

Aston’s usual bullish demeanor had been reduced to the suddenly fragile mien of a child that had found himself abandoned. “Mommy put me to sleep in there and told me that when I woke up, I should go to Grampy’s,” he said, pointing first to the van and then to Mike’s vacant tent.

Aria felt the anger rise up inside her in response to her intuition about what was really going on. It was an all-too-predictable pattern. She didn’t care if it was knowing neglect or miscommunication on Ciarra’s part; it was damaging either way. Before confirming her suspicion that Aston had been left at the lot completely unattended, she walked with him, scanning the other encampments for any sight of either Ciarra or Mike.

When their search turned up nothing, she brought Aston back to the Land Cruiser and did her best to distract him. It was a method she had learned from the many social workers she had seen working with young children at the group homes. She pulled one of the juice packets that Omkar had left for her from her backpack and watched him sip it in between his running commentary about cars. When Aston finished, she tried to wind his energy down by singing to him like she used to do to her younger siblings sometimes at the Johnsons’.

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird won’t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns to brass, Mama’s gonna buy you a looking-glass. And if that looking-glass gets broke, Mama’s gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat won’t pull, Mama’s gonna buy you a cart and bull. And if that cart and bull turn over, Mama’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover. And if that dog named Rover won’t bark, Mama’s gonna buy you a horse and cart. And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town!”

Aston began to quiet under the soft stroking of her fingertips against his arm. “Again,” he begged when she had finished and she repeated the song again.