"He left Tuesday. He said it was a last-minute business trip. I talked to him Tuesday night. He told me he was in Portland. But I called his hotel the next morning and they had no record of him being a guest. I called a bunch of other hotels, too. I checked in with his office, and his admin said he'd made his own travel arrangements."

"So you figured he'd seen the video and gone to San Francisco."

"Yes. In fact, I wondered if that video wasn't why he went to New Orleans two weeks ago. I thought maybe he was trying to find information on how she died. I tried to reach him, but he didn't answer his phone. I got desperate, so Wednesday afternoon I flew to San Francisco. I went to the Harding School. Your mother was conducting some after school concert rehearsal. I waited for her to leave around six and I followed her home."

"Did you talk to her?"

"No. I was going to. But then a man walked up to her door, and she let him in. I got back in the car and waited for another twenty minutes, but the man didn't leave. I started to realize how crazy I was acting. Your father wasn't with her. She had someone else in her life, so I left. But I'm still waiting to hear from your dad. I think he knows your mother is alive and is having some kind of breakdown."

Everything she said made sense. It fit the timeline, but she'd also raised questions about my dad. Why had he suddenly stopped all contact with us? She'd last talked to him on Tuesday evening. It was Friday night. That was a long time to be out of touch, especially in light of everything that had happened.

"How did you know I was at her house, Brynn?" Vicky asked.

"The police have been looking at security footage from the neighborhood."

"Why?"

"My mother was shot on Thursday afternoon. You didn't know that?"

"What? No!" Vicky exclaimed. "I had no idea. Who shot her?"

"The police don't have a suspect. She's alive but in critical condition. The hospital called me on Thursday, shortly after my mother was admitted. Apparently, my mom asked the nurse to contact me."

"Are you in San Francisco now? Have you seen your mom?"

"I have. But she hasn't seen me; she's unconscious."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry."

"Don't pretend to be sorry, Vicky. You could have told me two weeks ago. You could have shown me the video. You had plenty of chances to tell me she was alive. You didn't want me to know."

"I was protecting you."

"You were protecting yourself. I think Dad is also here in San Francisco. Have you called hotels in the city?"

"I contacted a couple of the chain hotels that he normally uses, but I couldn't find him. I honestly don't know where he is."